The Truth in the Ashes
by bravetoaster
Summary: "I sneak a glance at him at my kitchen table. Greasy Sae keeps her head down but I know she feels the tension that radiates from Peeta and myself. He only just returned a few days ago with the bushes for Prim and he's looking at me now. Our eyes meet and there's a relief in him that I see as our minds connect and we communicate a thousand conversations in that one look."
1. Chapter 1

*I do not own these characters. Please don't sue me.*

I sneak a glance at him at my kitchen table. Greasy Sae keeps her head down but I know she feels the tension that radiates from Peeta and myself. He only just returned a few days ago with the bushes for Prim and he's looking at me now. Our eyes meet and there's a relief in him that I see as our minds connect and we communicate a thousand conversations in that one look. In an instant, he knows my pain and confusion and looks back at me with comfort and questions. A million questions we have to ask and, as we lock eyes, I realize all of our answers can be found in each other.

I haven't been exactly responsive. I have felt like how people said Peeta was in thirteen. Losing time. Crazy. Suddenly, Sae is here cooking and suddenly she's gone. I smell the food she sets on the little table in front of the couch, but it's repulsive and makes me want to heave. I look anywhere but the food. I look anywhere but the direction of the study, the previously occupied but now empty bedrooms in this house. I look anywhere but the direction of the windows where I can just make out the rubble where the bodies are. The bodies that I caused to die. The mothers, fathers, and children like Prim.

Prim. The fire. My fire that I caused. Prim is so selfless that she was trying to save children while I only wanted to kill Snow. And so I killed her because death is all that I am. Death and fire. No wonder they called me the girl on fire. Obviously, everyone could see how selfish I am.

In the distance I hear a deafening quiet and and feel the hollowness of the darkness of my house at night. As I come out of it, I realize that I lost time again and now the sun is down and the meal is over. The table is clear except for my untouched bowl of stew that is now cold and congealing on the top. I sigh and try to blink the daze out of my eyes when I hear it. The soft brush of a foot against the floor and feel him still sitting at the end of the table where we had just locked eyes a few seconds ago. Seconds or hours. I meet his eyes again and he's looking at me in a way that I haven't seen him look in so long. Warmth pours out of his blue eyes and his body sends waves of comfort and safety.

If I didn't know any better, I would think he still cares about me. But I do know better and it would be like the new Peeta to deliver a hateful message mid-episode as he looks like he's about to wrap his arms around me. What I thought was a hug back in thirteen ended up being me strangled and I know better now. I slowly turn my foot towards the back door and shift all of my weight on my legs and I hover above the chair ready to run or jump depending on his reaction.

"Katniss."

It's a statement not a question. It didn't sound like it was a threat, but a plea to stay with an edge of hurt. It is then that I realize how stupid I'm being. So what if he kills me? What do I care? Isn't that what I want? Maybe I could get closer to paying for all that I've done by letting myself be strangled to death by the boy I hurt the most and caused his entire family to die. Maybe then I can be where the dead are and somehow find a way to apologize personally.

I deflate and sit down with a dramatic "plop." I take one last look at my hands and square my shoulders. I lift my chin and face Peeta. He's looking relieved that I've decided to stay.

"Katniss," he begins again. "I can leave if you want me to."

"No!" I say probably too forcefully. I don't want Peeta to leave. I want Peeta to end my suffering and I want to atone for my actions! Peeta looks confused and waits to see what else I have to say. I, of course, have nothing else to say and I stare at his face and wait for the blow. I can't help but notice the bags under his bloodshot eyes and the way the redness of no sleep makes the blue in his eyes seem even bluer if that's even possible. He has burn scars on his neck that look like my own, but where mine look ugly and make me look like a monster, his make him look masculine and strong. His perfect features with these scars make him look mysterious and handsome.

"Good." I think. He's looking so handsome in spite of all of this destruction and maybe that will help him find a girl worthy of him. One that will give him all of the love I never did, and the marriage and children I can't. A girl he doesn't want to kill and he can move on with his life like I never existed. He has an amused but perplexed expression on his face and I realize that I think I said "good" out loud rather than just thinking it. I wonder if I said anything else. I look down at my forgotten supper and feel my face heat up.

"I'm sorry if those bushes were the wrong thing to do. I just saw them and thought of her... so I thought you should have them."

I narrow my eyes. Maybe he isn't trying to kill me. I can't manage my disappointment on top of my current state, so I try to think of other scenarios. Maybe Peeta is trying to trick me by being nice and will finish the job he started in thirteen when I least expect it. That sounds better. I should play along then so he can finish his mission.

"It's..." I have to clear my throat from lack of use. I make a disgusting gurgle sound, but Peeta waits patiently. "It's alright Peeta. I like them. I was just surprised to see you." Peeta smiles a good real Peeta smile at me. "...And I hope it's ok that I stayed for dinner. Sae wouldn't take no for an answer."

I stare intensely in his eyes trying to find the evil hijacked Peeta in his words, and he becomes nervous. "I... I mean that I wanted to... WANT to see you. I... just didn't know if you wanted to see me." Crap. Somehow I can even ruin evil Peeta's plans to kill me. I have to try harder to play along.

"I'm glad you came" I say lamely. No wonder I can't do anything right. I blow out a huff in frustration. Peeta stares at me. He's sizing up my arms and cheeks. He's taking in the depth of the dips where my collar bone sits. He's noting how my clothes bunch around me rather than lay flat.

"Katniss, I'm going to come back for breakfast I that's alright with you. I haven't been sleeping well and I bake to keep my mind busy. I'd like to bring you some of the things I make."

Since I don't respond and only look at him he continues. "I am trying to remember some recipes from before the..." He stops himself and looks to the side unsure. He doesn't know what to call what we went through and I guess he's afraid he'll spook me if he's too blunt. "...from... from before, and I want to know if what I remember is... real. Or not."

He looks at me with such vulnerability now, that I start to think maybe this really is the real Peeta and not the hijacked Peeta. Instantly I feel disappointed that I won't be dying this evening. Then, I start to feel something else like a static charge from his presence in my house. The idea that this is the real boy that gave me the bread, trusted me, stayed with me, and fought with me sitting in front of me, and not hijacked Peeta, is making my heart slam against my ribs and the blood rush in my ears.

Suddenly, he makes to stand up and my chest clenches for some reason that I don't understand. He slowly approaches me like I'm a frightened animal he's about to free from a trap and kneels down beside me roughly because of his leg. Softly, like he's handling a child, he takes my hand that is resting on the table in front of me and squeezes it. I take a deep breath and smell his smell that smells like bread and warmth waft towards me because he's so close. We have a moment just looking at one another for a long while. He's reading my face while I process what I see in him. He's more of the real Peeta I have seen since the last I saw him in the arena. But, there's also the hijacked Peeta still in there lurking in the shadows of his mind. It's in the slight bunching of his eyebrows in the center of his face that doesn't go away.

"I'll see you in the morning, Katniss." He breaks eye contact, gets up, and walks to the door. The hand he was holding instantly feels cold. I watch him as he makes his way out of my house. He slows down gradually as he gets in arms reach of the doorknob and turns back around to face me. "And Katniss? I'm not going to kill you." Without waiting for a response, he turns back around, swings the door open, and walks out.

Peeta did show up for breakfast the next morning as well as the breakfasts after that. He comes with something he baked in his arms every morning while Greasy Sae is finishing up whatever she's cooking and he comes over to my place on the couch.

Usually, I've already been woken by my nightmares hours before, but I remain on the couch and watch the light outside go from black, to a deep blue, to grey, and then fill up my living room with this perverse bright and yellow sunshine. It makes all of the ashes of the people I killed in the air sparkle. Maybe tomorrow I'll gather all of my extra bedclothes and towels and stuff them in the windows to block out the sun.

That first morning Peeta came, he sat on the opposite end of the couch where I am with a basket tucked under his arm. My toes just touch the side of his thigh and I leave them there because he's warm and I always feel so cold now. As he sits, my feet slowly warm up and I hate myself for enjoying this warmth. Any warmth. Peeta throws back the cloth that is in the basket and rips off a piece of something and holds it out to me.

"Katniss, can you tell me how this tastes to you?" I stare at the bit of baked thing. It looks like a muffin with some kind of berry cooked inside of it. The sight and smell doesn't make me want to throw up so I take it and bite a tiny part into my mouth. Peeta watches me intensely like he's trying to fiercely memorize and analyze this moment at the same time. The muffin is delicious so I open my mouth and chuck the rest of it in. "It's good, Peeta."

He then grins widely. His straight teeth and perfect smile are framed by his strong jaw. He drops the rest of the muffin in my hands as he gets up to the kitchen to sit his basket down and help Greasy Sae set the table. I peep over the back of the couch and watch him as I slowly shove the muffin in my mouth. Greasy Sae pats Peeta on the back a lot and looks as if his presence in my house is the best gift anyone could give her. I have wondered about all of the trouble she's going to to try to force me not to die. I feel guilty, but I also don't understand why people can't leave me alone.

Wherever Prim is, that's where I want to be. I can't see her here, so why can't I just step into the unknown to try to find her there? What difference does it make. My mother and best friend both walked away. But, here is Greasy Sae trying everyday to keep me alive. I'm so damn tired of people trying to keep me alive. And now there's Peeta here and I've never been more confused.

"...Katniss?"

I snap back to reality at Peeta's voice. Greasy Sae is sitting at the table looking at me. Peeta is standing up and facing me. The food is on the table along with the plates and forks. I realize that I'm still in peeping position with my eyes and the top of my head only showing from the top of the couch. Peeta just looks at me patiently. "We are ready to eat, Katniss."

I bolt up and messily wipe the crumbs off of my chin, brush the remaining crumbs off my clothes onto the floor, and stiffly walk towards the table. My muscles are stiff from sitting on the couch for so long and my skin feels tight where my burns are. I have cream to put on them, but I don't see the point. I walk past Peeta and meet his eyes as I come up next to him. I feel that static charge between us again as our bodies get closer. Peeta's hand flexes at his side like he's trying to release energy that he can't contain. I duck my head and slide into my usual seat at the table. Peeta takes the chair next to mine and scoots it a little closer to me before sitting in it. This makes my body feel like it's buzzing.

I don't understand why I feel this way around Peeta now. Is it that I always felt this way but was too busy trying to hunt and fight to notice? Did I just start feeling this electricity? I suppose that it was always there since he threw me that bread. I remember that before the reaping his presence was something nice since he had shown me kindness that day in the rain. The dandelion of hope. Most times, I would notice him when he was around. I would catch myself absently watching him wrestle at school or carry those huge flour bags in town. I suppose I was always curious about this boy that saved my life.

As I remember those images from what feels like a lifetime ago, my eyes sweep up his side and I watch how his muscles flex in his upper arm under his shirt as he scoops Greasy Sae's breakfast out of the bowls on the table and puts small portions on my plate. Still feeding me, even now. The thought of this makes my heart bang and my stomach lurch in a way I've never felt before. It feels like I'm running for my life, but without the emergency. It's not my life that I desperately need, it's something else that I can't put my finger on. I decide I hate the feeling and try to ignore it as I grab another muffin. Greasy Sae has been watching me and she has a knowing smile on her face. What does she know about this? It's not like she's ever been responsible for the death or emotional destruction of literally an entire nation. The thought makes my face turn into a deep scowl that I can feel.

The rest of breakfast is uneventful. I eat my muffin and a few bites of what Greasy Sae put together. I hate wasting food, but these days I hate most everything so it doesn't matter and Peeta just gives me small portions anyway knowing that I probably won't eat it. For a long time I thought that Gale knew me better than anyone, but it was in Thirteen that I understood that it was actually Peeta who knew me best. The old Peeta knew me better than anyone because the Games had changed me from the minute we were carted off on that train the first time. But now the Capitol took that from me too when they took his memories.

Gale changed too. He was different when we only talked about the Capitol in the safety of our own woods. The fighting changed him and made him angrier as if the stress of feeding his family was the only thing that softened him. It's better this way. Posy will never go hungry and Rory will never be reaped. Gale will be happy in his new life, I know he will. I knew that if he ever had to choose between this freedom and me he would choose freedom, and that's exactly what he did. He had to choose and he chose correctly.

My mother couldn't come back here without Prim, so she left me to build a new life without her dead and broken daughters. I can't say that I blame her either. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if she were here taking care of me, and in every scenario it's worse than this. In every scenario, I end up killing myself forcefully or screaming violently at her from all of the pent up anger I have for her. It's better believing that Gale and my Mother are dead along with everyone else.

Days pass like this until I hear Peeta's heavy step on my porch around supper time a few weeks after the first breakfast. Usually, Greasy Sae has already made food for herself and her granddaughter and she drops off some she set aside for me. Or at least that's what I assume happens. I'm always unresponsive around this time and I just snap back some time later that evening to find the food on my little table in front of the couch I live on during the day. I started sleeping in my bed on the occasions that I muster up enough motivation to care after I come back to reality after my afternoon dazes.

So, when I hear Peeta's footsteps outside, I'm foggy when he opens my door and peeks his head inside.

"Katniss?" he asks softly.

"Peeta?" I croak sleepily.

"Katniss, sorry to come over unannounced. I just made some extra food for supper and wanted to see if you'd join me?" He asks softly. I stare at him still trying to register what time it is and what he's asking me. A think some time passes so he starts again. "It's just that I always come over here, and I don't want you to feel like you can't come to my house as well, so I thought I'd ask. It's ok if you don't want to."

Finally coming back to reality, I survey my situation. Peeta's breakfast treats have gotten me more accustomed to eating and I do feel a little hungry. I also took a shower today and braided what's left of my hair which is a rare occurrence, though happening more often now. I decide to just give it a short go since he keeps bringing me the bread.

I slowly stand up, stretching all of my limbs. Peeta watches me do this with an odd look on his face like he's studying the mechanics of how my body moves. I am starting to fill out a little more, so I guess he can actually see my shape under my clothes now. This makes me embarrassed, but I hide it because, for some reason, it also makes me feel good in a way I haven't felt since Cinna would dress me in the beautiful clothes he made.

"Okay, Peeta. I'll join you." Peeta visibly becomes excited at my acceptance and shifts his weight from foot to foot waiting for me to walk to my door. As I get closer, I look longingly at my bow and arrows that are propped up in the corner beside the door. I have only hunted a few times which started when Peeta came back. It is hard to work up enough energy to go, but I find myself wanting to go more often. I look back at Peeta who is smiling at me and steps out on my porch. When I step out and shut the door behind me, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leads the way across the walkway to his front porch. Spring is in full swing now and the late day smells like rain and crisp warmth. Maybe I will go hunting tomorrow. At the very least I can set some traps and catch some small game to give to Greasy Sae. Once we climbed the steps on Peeta's porch, he opens the door and gestures me in first.

Immediately, I'm assaulted by the delicious smell of a bakery. Sugar and bread. His house is also several degrees warmer most likely from the oven. My house is usually cold because I don't care enough to light a fire most nights. When I start to shiver I think of it as my punishment for being the girl on fire and it makes me feel better. Like the chill will pinch out the flame inside me that is responsible for so much death. I take a deep breath of Peeta's home and look around. He has candles and lamps lit in every corner which makes his house feel like the inside of a dream. A good one.

I don't even register Peeta coming in behind me until his hand lightly rests on my lower back. I shudder involuntarily at his touch as he slides past me. If he notices, he doesn't let on. Peeta walks to the kitchen and I quietly creep to the table as if any noise from my presence could destroy such a beautiful atmosphere. Peeta already has two places set with a tall white candle lit in between them. As I stare at the two place settings, I think about what would have happened if I declined Peeta's invitation. He would come back here alone and pack up my place setting only to eat by himself in lonely, wasted candle light. The visual of Peeta doing this makes my heart break and I am instantly glad I came.

I walk back to the door and kick off my boots. I catch a penetrating smile on Peeta's face that he is trying to hide by putting his head down, directing it to his task of cutting into the food that he made. But, I see it. I know this boy too well. I pad over to the kitchen and peer over his shoulder. There's a dish with crumbs on top and a mush of what looks like vegetables and a cheese sauce underneath.

"It's called a casserole. I've been wanting to try it, and now that the train is coming more often I was able to get the ingredients for this one."

"It smells wonderful" I say. And it does. It smells like the delicious food from the Capitol, but not as fancy, thankfully.

"I hope you like it. If not, I have a backup plan." With that, he picks up the dish and walks over to the table. I sit at the place setting that he isn't standing beside and watch him scoop the casserole onto my plate. He then sits and takes a small bite taking his time tasting the food. I look down at my plate and fork a small bite in my mouth. It is delicious.

"Mmm, Peeta!" I moan without thinking. His eyes flick up to mine and burn with intensity. I feel myself begin to turn red, and silently curse myself for acting like such a schoolgirl. Peeta and I have been through more than any two people should ever have to go through. We've seen each other bloody, beaten, bruised, even oozing and yet I can't stop becoming a trembling blushing mess at just a glance from him. I muster up everything I have to take control.

"It's really good Peeta. If this is your plan A, I don't want to know what your plan B is." At this, Peeta grins wickedly. He gets up and walks to the kitchen. He comes back with a basket and sets it on the table as he sits back down and crosses his arms waiting for my reaction.

I cock my head to the side and narrow my eyes playfully at him. I can't help myself and peel back the cloth on top of the basket. At the first reveal of the top of a golden and round cheese bun I gasp and grab it up like someone will steal it from me. I rip it in half to reveal the melted cheese and stuff it in my mouth.

"Hmmmm" I hum out in satisfaction. I don't even stop myself this time and close my eyes to enjoy these delicious treats. When I've finished eating that half slowly, I allow myself to open my eyes and find Peeta staring at me with that intense look again. Like my display of enjoying his food ignited a fire behind his eyes. I stop myself from becoming embarrassed this time. I smile at him, hold his gaze, and simply say "My favorite."

"I know." His voice is lower and rougher as he says this and it makes my heart beat faster. He's looking at me like I'm his cheese bun. It shoots a thrill up my spine and I start to tingle.

"It's almost like you planned it." I say.

"I never said I didn't, just that I made too much food."

I smile at this. This is like the old Peeta. I glance around the room again taking in my surroundings while I munch away. I can just make out my house which now have the primrose bushes in front. You can't miss them. Prim. While I'm over here gorging myself and moaning like a fool, my sister is dead and it's my fault. The sadness hits me like a sack of bricks.

Peeta senses my mood change and looks to the window where my eyes fall. He must put it together pretty quickly, because he then says, "Katniss, she would want you to enjoy yourself."

"How can I? How could I, Peeta?" And in an instant the tears start falling and I'm reduced to a crying mess with a fork still in hand. Pathetic.

"Shhh shhhh" Peeta slides out of his chair and wraps his arms around me when he crouches beside my chair. I turn to him and curl up against his chest and sob. My mind plays the image of her being engulfed in fire over and over until I feel numb and the tears finally stop because there's no more to give. As I slowly regain my bearings on reality some time after my break down, I notice that the sun has set and I'm now on Peeta's couch. He must have carried me here. Peeta comes around with a glass of water and urges me to drink after he sits down directly beside me. He then pats my face dry and I notice the wet spot on his chest from my crying.

"I'm sorry. I ruined supper" I croak.

"No, Katniss. I just want to help you. I want your company no matter how you feel."

"What about you? What do you get out of it?"

He smiles and dips his head down closer to my eye level. "Well, maybe you didn't know this, but I'm not always a ray of sunshine either. I guess you'll have to form your own opinions about that."

"They didn't fix you?"

"They did as much as they could. It's not like I was in thirteen. I can keep a handle on it without going violent. But, the episodes will always be there."

"Oh." This makes me even sadder. Peeta will never be the same. "I'm sorry" I whisper.

"Hey. It's okay. We'll keep living because that's what they would want us to do, right?" Peeta reaches out and takes my hand. I let him take it and our fingers lace together. I know that Prim, Finnick, Rue, and everyone else would want us to move on. I just can't let myself.

"I can't Peeta. It's all my fault." Fat tears threaten to slide down my face again.

"Katniss. I know you feel responsible, but you're not. You have to know that. This was Snow and even Coin. But not you. They used you, Katniss. All of them. They used you and don't for a second think that any of this is your fault." Peeta becomes visibly angry and his pupils begin to dilate. He pushes up off of the couch suddenly and walks to the table where he grips the back of the chair I was sitting in.

"Peeta..?" I see his ribs expanding and contracting from deep breaths. Fear rips through me. Not for myself but for Peeta. I make to come after him but just as I decide to go I hear him say "NO!... No... Katniss... Stay... there." his words come out between breaths and I hear his clenched jaw as he speaks. I sit back down and look at Peeta helplessly. I watch his back heave for some time while I consider his words. Was I used? Wasn't it Snow's fault? And Coin's? No, I have to be responsible. Had I just played along then District Twelve wouldn't have been bombed, Finnick would be alive, and maybe even Prim would still be here.

"...Katniss..." I blink up to see that Peeta, now exhausted, is sitting in the chair raking his hands through his hair. "Katniss. You can't blame yourself..."

"Shh Peeta" I leap up and walk to his side where I brush his hair out of his face. His hair is now disheveled and I find it very becoming on Peeta who is usually so neat. "It's alright now. You're tired, we'll talk about this later." I take our food and cover it up and put it away. Peeta huffs in tired frustration in the chair. When I'm finished cleaning up, I realize I'm a loss for what to do next. The next logical step is to get him into bed, but I feel like that's an invasion of his privacy. Before, that wouldn't have been an issue, but sadly too much time and tragedy has passed between us and wedged us apart. I stand in the middle if the kitchen while I consider what other options I have, of which I fail to come up with any. Peeta must sense my predicament and musters up what energy he has left to put me out of my misery.

"Some supper, huh?" He tries to joke.

"Peeta, no. It was wonderful. This is my fault. I ruined-"

"Katniss. Stop. Just stop. No. You didn't."

I decide to leave it alone. As much as I want to stay and help him, it's obvious to me that my presence only makes him worse. First with my own breakdown, then causing his episode, and now we can't even agree on supper without draining him further. I hang my head and try to think of a polite thing to say before I sprint out the door.

"Katniss. Just listen." Peeta takes a deep breath and I brace myself. "Yes, people died. A lot of people. And, yes, people died from our direct actions. But think about before we were reaped. Don't you remember how bad it was? How everyone would have gladly laid down their lives to end it all? The Capitol, the mines, the starvation, ...the GAMES, Katniss? You were an answer. A right-place-right-time. But, this wouldn't have happened if everyone didn't want it. You're pretty amazing Katniss, you know I think you're incredible, but you're not so amazing that you can force a war on an entire nation."

I look down at my hands. Peeta's words just made me even more confused. I abandon finding my long lost polite parting words and just sprint to the door anyway. I'm out of his house, over the walkway, and through my door just in time to sob into the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, I wake about 6 times from night terrors. My face and pillow is wet from tears, my throat is dry and scratchy from screaming, and my nightgown is damp from sweat. After I catch my breath and wipe away this sticky hair that has stuck itself to my face and neck, I walk to my window with a glass of water and gaze at Peeta's house. The lights upstairs are still on. This worries me since he was so tired after his episode. The breeze blows through my curtains and I make up my mind that I have to be stronger in front of Peeta and not burden him with my guilt. Doesn't he already have enough to deal with? Yes, I will not be selfish anymore. I finally find a restless sleep just as the sky begins to lighten on the horizon.

When I wake, I judge by the absurd brightness of the sun coming through my window that it's midday. I shower to get the saltiness of sweat off of my skin, and avoid the mirrors while I dress in pants and a dark cotton long-sleeved shirt. I decide to go hunting even though it's late. When I get downstairs I see the remains of breakfast. Greasy Sae made some eggs and Peeta brought over more bread. Both are wrapped on the counter. I cut a slice of the bread that smells sweet like fruit and wrap it in a cloth for later in the woods. I then slip on my boots and leave my Father's coat behind. Judging by the breeze coming through my window, it was a warm spring day. I sling my quiver and my game bag over my shoulder and grab my bow and practically jump off of my porch out the door.

As I stride through Victor's Village, I hear Haymich cursing at his geese. I see one waddle across the walkway ahead. I groan to myself and catch up to it. I grab the honking bird and hold it at arms length as I quickly walk around Haymich's house to the back while it wiggles itself in a ridiculous circular motion trying to get free.

"Haymich! Take this bird before I shoot it." I announce loudly as Haymich catches sight of me.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Everdeen." Haymich stumbles only once and has a light sway to his step so I figure he's in the beginning stages of his drunken cycle. I grow impatient waiting for him to take the bird so I throw it over the fence. It flaps around until it rights itself and tries to nip at my feet through the fence.

"You break it, you buy it!" Haymich yells. I roll my eyes and turn to walk away. He acts like he doesn't care about these geese, but the fact is that he wouldn't take care of them if he didn't want to. "I'll bring you back a squirrel if you're that upset about it." I say over my shoulder as I start to walk away.

"Katniss!"

I stop suddenly sensing the change in mood. He hardly ever uses my first name. I don't, however, walk back towards him because I am sure this is a trick. Haymich hobbles to the edge of the fence and narrows his eyes at me. He waits a little while just looking at me and then finally sighs.

"Good to see you out." Immediately, he lowers his eyes and he turns his back to me and walks back towards his house. I watch as he tosses the geese the rest of their food over his shoulder and they all form into a single mound of jiggling feathers around the pile. I turn to start walking back to the woods and I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye as he plops down on the rocking chair on the back porch and takes a long pull on a liquor bottle, never casting another glance my way. I also set my eyes ahead and walk towards the entrance if Victor's Village. Compliments make him uncomfortable and he knows that it makes me uncomfortable as well.

When I get to the woods, the heat of spring brings life in smell and in sound. I'm nearly deaf from the birds chirping, the various insects and frogs singing, and the rustle of wind through the trees. Everything smells fresh like green grass and budding flowers which makes me think of Peeta. My dandelion in the spring. How appropriate for him to come back into my life now just as spring fills my senses and breathes warmth into the dark cold winter of my mind. I feel guilty that I should allow the warmth in, because I know I don't deserve it.

However, somewhere deep down in my heart where Prim still is alive, I know she wants me to do this. I know this like I know the color of her eyes and how she smiles when buttercup plays with mom's yarn. I know she wants this because I know her and that trumps what I or anyone else thinks I do or don't deserve. I make up my mind right then that I will live the rest of my life the way that Prim would want. For her. As I silently make that vow, I feel like a huge weight is lifted from me. I sigh and breathe in the fresh air. Though I'm not ready to believe all of Peeta's words from last night yet, about not me being responsible for everything and for things being better now, I feel like im closer to that frame of mind.

After a few quiet moments, I catch a springing white tail dart off in the distance. I grip my bow and set my mind to catch something for Greasy Sae. Regardless of the reason why she's looking after me, it is the least I could do. I creep quietly through the trees on my hunters feet and manage to shoot 2 rabbits and 3 squirrels. 1 rabbit I got through the eye and I gave a yelp of happiness when I noticed. I clean my kills and head out of the woods. I've been hunting a few times, but I've never come back with much of a haul like this one.

When I get to town, I try to keep my head down and mentally try to melt into my game bag I have slung over my shoulder. I only look up to scan the area for Sae and catch a few gaping people who apparently think watching me walk through town is more interesting than whatever they were doing. It's different now than it was after the first games and even in thirteen. The war changed everything and everyone. Now I'm not one of them anymore. I'm something else that starts wars and kills ally leaders and has mental breakdowns. I want to just yell at them to go watch the footage of the games or the war. That I don't know what they are waiting for. But, I decide to leave it alone. Peeta would tell me to leave them alone.

When I find Sae, she sees me and does a double-take with a dramatic gasp and presses her hand to her chest. I've never seen so much emotion out of her before so I stop and wait to see what she does. Quickly, she finds her herself. "Girl it's been so long since I seen you walkin around here like that, I thought I was seein' a ghost!"

"Well, I guess it's more likely you'd see a ghost, anyway." I say matter-of-factly referring to the mass grave which happens to be close by. I drop my game bag from my shoulder and hold it out to her. "Here."

"About time." She unceremoniously takes my game bag and empties it of its contents. Then, she hands me back my game bag and she turns to prepare the meat for stew or storage. I turn and walk away in a different direction from the center of town to get home. Even if it is longer, I'll do anything to avoid people gawking at me. After a while, a tired jelly feeling settles in my legs and arms from the days hunt and walk. Also from the satisfying feeling of settling debt you owe.

When I finally get to the entrance of Victor's Village, I judge by the low orange glow coming from the sun that it is close to supper time. I try to not think about how much I want to see Peeta. But, as if my mind summoned him, I see him sitting on my porch as I get closer. He's sitting on my top step and his head is low in his hands. I watch him and when he doesn't move for a good 10 seconds I begin to think something is wrong.

"Peeta!" I shout and start to sprint towards him. His head jerks up and he leans on the railing, away from his bad leg, to get to a stand. I slow as I get close because I see that he isn't having an episode. He's looking at me and processing what I'm doing. "Peeta, are you alright?" He looks at me hard for a second like he's waging a war with himself in his mind. I take in his red eyes and wrinkled clothing. No, something is not right. Finally, he let's out a chuckle to himself and shakes his head as he looks up at the sky. I feel my brows pinch together in concern. I slowly take the first step on the porch and then the next trying to get closer to him like the proximity to him will yield clarity. He sighs and looks at me.

"I thought something was wrong. I thought I did something to offend you." I stare at him trying to understand. Did he have an episode and now is confused? We are inches apart and I'm standing on the step directly under him now as he leans on the railing on the top step. I normally would feel uncomfortable this close to someone, but it's Peeta, so I don't. If I'm being honest with myself, his closeness is comforting. He straightens up which makes him lean even closer to me. I make myself not flinch or move.

"You ran out when we had dinner last night and then you didn't come down for breakfast, so I thought..." he bites his bottom lip and looks away. It dawns on me in a flash what I must have seemed like to him from my actions. I'm so selfish, I keep surprising even myself.

"No, Peeta. I was upset with myself not you. Last night, I just kept making things worse." My eyes focus on a point in the distance while I relive some of the images in my mind. Suddenly, I feel his warm fingers gently take my chin and tilt my head up. My eyes meet his penetrating gaze. I always feel like he can see straight through every one of my barriers to the selfish, terrified girl underneath.

"Katniss, how could you think that you could make things worse? I'm going to have episodes with or without you. I want to be around you no matter how you are." He still grips my chin to hold my eyes while his words sink in. Didn't he say something like that last night too? Does that mean he still cares about me like the way he used to? My heart begins to beat faster and my eyes travel to his lips. They look so soft and I think about how they felt on the beach during the quell. I unconsciously lick my lips. I have kissed those lips so many times, and now it's all I can think about. Do I actually want to kiss him right now? Peeta releases my chin and then runs his finger down my jaw line. I sigh and close my eyes at his caressing touch without thinking, still reliving our kisses in my mind. Though this transports me back to troubling memories-which will undoubtedly play a part in my nightmares tonight-Peeta was always my lighthouse in the dark who made me feel safe. Being close to Peeta makes the vast emptiness inside me feel not as lonely. I open my eyes to meet Peeta's again. My breath is coming out in short, soft pants. Why am I reacting this way?

Then, I first notice his dilated pupils. After that, I see his pulse in his neck from his elevated heartbeat. I gasp and grab his other hand while I straighten up and search his eyes for other signs of an episode. But, to my embarrassment, Peeta is not having an episode. Peeta looks at me curiously and then smiles. "Katniss, you're still so pure." I growl and throw his hand down. I try to shove him out of the way, so that I can march into my house, but fail and end up just pressing my hands against his hard chest which ends up making me more flustered. My depressed state weakened my strength and I could barely make him budge to begin with. He laughs and moves out of my way to let me pass. The last thing I hear before I shut the door on this embarrassing encounter is Peeta's voice, smooth as silk, say "See you at supper, Katniss."

After I get inside, I slump into a chair and watch Peeta make his way back into his house from the window. Then, for the next hour, I think of every scenario I can to avoid future embarrassment. I can't believe I let myself get so caught up. I must have looked like such a fool to him. Peeta made the promise of supper, but I don't know where. I think of the various possibilities and must've been so focused I don't hear the door open. By the time I hear his heavy steps, it's too late and he's standing there looking at me when I crane my neck to see him holding some containers of food.

"It's just some leftovers." he says and he walks to my kitchen to start unpacking. I audibly groan and force myself to be useful. I'm not hungry, and I'd rather be left alone to think after that encounter I just had with Peeta. I start to cross my foyer and suddenly I'm almost knocked down by Haymich barreling through the door.

"Oh, hey Sweetheart, I wouldn't stand behind doors. People sometimes have a habit of coming through them." he says seeing my annoyance written all over my face. "People also sometimes have a habit of knocking before they come through doors that aren't theirs." I bite back.

"Oh! Is that right?" He questions, dripping with sarcasm as he glides to the dining table and bites one of my cheese buns in half. "Well, I'll have to remember that the next time you pay uncle Haymich a visit." He plops into a chair and grins at me.

"It doesn't count when your host is always comatose and wouldn't answer the door. Also, judging by the state of your house, I think any manners would be out of place." I cut back.

"Oh, Katniss. I invited Haymich over. I hope that's ok." Peeta softly says to me as he comes in with the warmed food and plates. He shoots me an apologetic look.

"Oh? I hadn't even noticed." I say with as much venom I can muster. Peeta looks back and forth at Haymich and I. I know I shouldn't be so hateful about this because this inevitably means that Peeta found Haymich in a state where he had not eaten actual food for days, but I'm not in a place to put up with Haymich right now. This day has been too long already.

"Well I hope you do notice I'm here before you two have another little flirty moment. Next time you should take it inside before you just stand on your steps and stare at each other and just spare me the awkward teenage romance visual."

When I confirm and reconfirm in my mind exactly what Haymich said, my brain instantly boils with embarrassment, anger, fear, denial, and then hope in the span of a half second. I stand up so quickly the chair almost topples over behind me. "I'm not hungry." I announce and sprint up the stairs to my room where I strip off my clothes, and jump in the shower to try and scrub away the day. Once the water starts to run cold, I dress in a long nightgown and sit in the chair in my room that I pulled up to the window to watch the night. I hear some shuffling around downstairs and then see Haymich make his way towards his house. He stops in the street and peers up to my window. He must have seen me sitting here often enough before. He waves at me spitefully and I give him my middle finger. He laughs loudly and then strides to his house, I'm sure ready to kill one of his liquor bottles.

Then, I hear a gentle knock on my door. Peeta. "Come in," I say, but instantly regret it. I'd rather not talk about what happened earlier, on the steps or at the table. Then I remember I'm only in my nightgown which, although long, happens to be remarkably thin. He softly glides in like someone would when they are trying not to wake a sleeping baby. He has my plate of food in his hand.

"Keep this up and I'll start thinking you actually hate my cooking." He smiles sheepishly at me and makes to the center of my room. I smile back and guide him to my bed where we sit and I take the plate and put it in my lap. He threw some extra cheese buns on the plate for me. I stuff one in my mouth so I don't have to talk.

I eat in silence as Peeta sits beside me and takes in my room, occasionally sneaking glances at me. Once, I see him sweep his eyes over my form when he thinks I'm not looking, his eyes lingering at my chest. I look down and realize that the cooling breeze through the cracked window has chilled me and made my breasts come to hard points under my thin nightgown. I've always been small, and from what I heard, it's better to have a large chest, so I ignore Peeta's looks because I can't imagine why he would look at me for that reason. I never thought I was actually desirable in that kind of way. Even while in Cinna's beautiful dresses, I thought the only possibility of being pretty was because his amazing gowns might have made me so. Like a well-tailored mannequin. Never desirable. As I think about Cinna I sigh and sink lower into the bed.

"What is it?" I look up at Peeta and his head is slightly cocked to the side with a concerned look written on his face. "Cinna." I say quietly as I look back to my plate while I finish up the last little pile of food on my plate. I'm not hungry anymore, but I want to make Peeta happy, so I finish anyway.

"Hm." Peeta nods in understanding. He's the only person that can understand me this way. "Sometimes I think about that morphling that died to save me in the Quell," Peeta says, "I guess I know now that it was for the rebellion, but I can't shake that she did that. I see her face right before she died flash behind my eyes all the time." Betraying his calm demeanor, his eyes shift away to a distant place as he undoubtedly recollects that horrible memory. I hate to see his face in pain like this. Hasn't he been through enough? I know all too well about the gruesome flashes that come to you at random. Prim dissolving into flames is a popular scene in my mind. I often thought that if I only could take a picture of what I saw and destroy it, or maybe keep it, I would finally be free of it.

"Peeta, do you still paint?" I ask placing my empty plate on the bed behind me.

"Yeah. Though it's been more drawing than painting since the hijacking. Why?" So, he remembers from before.

"Have you ever tried painting your visions or nightmares? Maybe it would help you." Peeta looks down at the floor and then up at the ceiling. His blond hair is growing out and is falling over his ears. The top looks like he's been sweeping or tossing it to the side. I decide that it's very becoming on him and that this hair is my favorite. I resist a strange urge to touch it.

"I used to paint memories from our first games, real or not real?" He asks but sounds confident like he knows the answer.

"Real," I respond without hesitation. Maybe even a little too eager. "That was your hobby that was shown after the games."

He nods slightly. "I thought so."

"What about you?" he asks. I look up at him and he scoots closer to me. "What do you do to help with the visions and nightmares?" I give a chuckle, but he still waits for a response.

"Dwell. Wallow. Hide in closets," I say. I smile to myself at the thought. I'm just like my mother. I feel a shift in the mattress and Peeta's strong arms wrap around me and squeeze me to his chest. I wasn't overly upset, so this is an embrace that Peeta wanted. I sigh and rest my head against his beating heart and breathe in his sweet masculine smell. I'm enjoying this too much. He rests his chin on the top of my head.

"Maybe I could draw or paint for you. I can paint what I remember. I was there for most of it and I can always just paint someone's likeness if you want it."

I pull away and look up at him. "Like the plant book! But, for our memories. Peeta, that's a great idea!" Peeta grins at my response. "I want to start with Cinna. I've been thinking of him a lot recently. Can you draw Cinna?"

Peeta nods and takes my hand and kisses the top. It's a simple gesture. Not as intimate as our embrace we just broke, but somehow that gesture feels important. "I'll start on it now and come over for supper tomorrow and show you what I have." With that, he gets up and walks to my door, gently closing it as he casts one last happy look my way.

Maybe we can fix ourselves and heal. Is it possible to move on after so much destruction and have a life at all that belongs to you? If that's true, what would happen to my life? As I'm pondering, I realize after some time that Peeta is in every one of my possibilities of a future. I need him to move on and I need him to be happy. I don't like being dependant on anyone, but I relent that it might be necessary after a person has lived through so much horror. Perhaps, after Peeta and I fix ourselves, then we go our separate ways and pretend like the games and the war never happened. Right as I finish that thought my mind flashes to my memory of Peeta telling me he didn't want to forget after our first games. My heart aches even at my memory of his hurt face of the boy that means so much to me. He meant everything to me even then, but I spent so much time trying to run from the games, so I put him in that box as well.

No. I'll not do that again. I'll let Peeta decide this time. He's welcome to leave or stay for as long as he wants. I know that my life is here and it'll only be this, but I will never have children and probably never marry and I know peeta wants both of those things. I can't and won't deny him the chance to find another life that will provide that without me. Peeta can stay or leave, I owe him that much at least. I hope he leaves soon because the longer he stays, the harder it will be to put myself together. But deeper still, I wish more that he stays with me and chooses to live the rest of his life with me. I guess this means that I really do have feelings for Peeta, as more than just friends. My dandelion in the spring. Prim was right.

The next day Peeta brings over a leather folder with drawings of Cinna. After supper, I light a fire in the fireplace and Peeta makes us tea. When I'm done with the fire I sit on the couch and open the folder and peer into the contents. I hear the ting ting of stirring spoons in a mug, so I know peeta will be along shortly. When I first see the impression of Cinna, I feel my eyes fill up and my vision get blurry. My Peeta has perfectly captured Cinna's beautiful smile. This is the first time I've seen him since he was beaten in front of me before the quell. I'm overwhelmed with the sadness of his death. His youth, rare warmth, and incredible talent squished like an annoying bug under snow's disgusting foot as if it were nothing.

Peeta comes to the living room and sets our two mugs on the coffee table. He then sits down next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders as my tears slide down my face freely. I place my hand on the drawing wishing I could touch Cinna's face.

"It's so good, Peeta." I whisper. "Thank you." I finally look up at him and he smiles at me and brushes away my tears from my cheek with his thumb.

"There are more. Tell me what you think and I'll do a final one for our book."

I slide into the floor and spread out the pages. I drink in every detail and memories start to come back that I had forgotten. I look up at Peeta and Buttercup sits on his lap while he absently pets him, watching me. I ask Peeta to hand me some paper and I start to write down the memories of Cinna that bubble up from my depths of my mind. I should be sad, but I feel free of my sorrow. It's as if dredging up these memories and writing them down makes them permanent, and therefore makes Cinna more alive.

"His eyes are more like this one, but not like this." I tell Peeta pointing to the drawing. He nods seriously at me. "And the way he smiles here is exactly how he would look at me during my interviews with Caesar."

Peeta grins. "I know. He would look at you like that whenever you did something that people didn't expect." It takes me a second to process what peeta just said. When I realize that he just mentioned something he remembered about me, I'm shocked and stare at Peeta.

"Peeta? You remember?"

Peeta looks at me and our eyes lock. "Yes." he says.

"How?" I ask in total disbelief.

"Well, I don't know everything. I'm sure I'm still missing pieces of things. But, I've been able to recover a lot of memories...real ones...from almost every significant experience I had."

"Peeta." I get kicked with the feeling like I'm finally getting the reunion I wanted when they brought Peeta in from the Capitol. I jump up off of the floor, fling Buttercup off the couch where he lands with a hiss, and curl into Peeta's lap. I sit on his lap and hang my legs off the side and wrap my arms around his neck. He circles his arms around me and I bury my head in his neck.

"I've missed you so much." I tell him. Peeta gives a long sigh like he's releasing a breath he has been holding.

"I missed you too, Katniss."

We hold each other for a long time. Clinging to each other afraid that if we let go someone will rip us apart again. I feel so familiar with him that his skin almost feels like its my own. His smell brings me comfort and the steady movement from his breathing soothes the darkness that consumes me.

After a while I feel something move underneath my bottom. I have felt this before when Peeta and I slept together. A few times on the train, I would wake up first, before Peeta could move away, and I would feel it pressing against me. Once, when I was sure he was asleep, I pressed my leg against it back curiously and it twitched. Then, he sighed and hugged me tighter to him, protectively and affectionately. The experience made me confused, but I never forgot it. I replay that memory at night in my head sometimes when I can't sleep.

I feel a little cramped in my back, so I use the opportunity to stretch, deliberately arching my back and pressing my bottom on top of his hardness that I feel underneath me. I feel another pulse in response to my movements underneath me. Then I feel Peeta's hand spasm, slide down my side to my hip, and squeeze. His thumb is on my hip bone and his skilled hand is wrapped around the fleshy part of my hip that is really filling out now. His squeeze is slow and forceful, like it's releasing and also fueling something. This fills my stomach with a feeling of anticipation and excitement that starts in my chest and pulses out into my limbs to then bounce back to the spot between my legs. I sigh into his shoulder.

Suddenly, he tries to start to stand up. Embarrassed, I clamber off of his lap and try not to notice how cold I suddenly feel. Peeta starts to gather the sketches he did of Cinna, and leaves the notes of my memories.

"We should try to sleep." He says finally. I conclude that I have made him uncomfortable. I am an idiot for thinking we could go back to the way we were, or rather further than before. I feel mortified and disappointed.

"Katniss. What's wrong." I look up at him as he stands above me. He has a look of concern and a tense stance like he's trying to hold something in. Probably because he's trying to hide his disgust.

"Nothing. You're right. You should sleep." I say with finality and stand to collect the rest of our things and put them away. I just want this encounter to end as gracefully as it can if that's even possible. Obviously I was wrong to think that Peeta could still have feelings for me like he used to. Wrong to think that we could enjoy each other like we used to, even if it was for the cameras. I had gotten accustomed to Peeta's affection and when he was kidnapped by snow I came to realize that I missed it and I took him for granted. That's what I get for being selfish. I need to let him go. Peeta slowly walks towards the door watching me.

"I'll work on a final drawing of Cinna for our memory book. Thank you for giving me your thoughts. They were very helpful "

"You're welcome." I say as I neatly put my papers away in a drawer. We are just friends. This is how friends act.

"Katniss?" I stop and look at him. His hair is falling to the side and his clothes are rumpled from where I was sitting on him.

"I'm right next door, OK? If you need me ...or if you just don't want to be alone."

I hold back the urge to ask him to stay. I'm not wounded or about to die. There's no reason for it anymore. Some night terrors are hardly a reason to selfishly ask someone to stay when I'm perfectly safe in my own bed.

"OK peeta. Thank you." And go back to my straightening. I have to let him go. I have to accept my fate and allow peeta to find a life without me. A better life. I hear the soft click of peeta closing the door behind him down the hall.

The next week continues as it should. Peeta comes over for breakfast, I hunt, he draws and bakes, we eat supper and work on the memory book. We keep each other at a distance like an invisible wall. On the last day of the week Peeta and I are washing dishes after supper. I look at him every time he hands me something to dry. His red eyes are back and he has a hunched depressed air about him. His head hangs lower than normal and his shoulders are rounded in. Once we are done, I start to walk towards the living room to light a fire, but he is slow and stops at the kitchen table.

"Katniss..." He starts. I whirl around to face him. His breathing is heavy and getting heavier. He puts both of his hands on the table and hangs his head.

"Peeta?" I ask and walk towards him. He looks up at me when I get closer and I watch as his beautiful blue eyes disappear and his pupils dilate completely and then rapidly shrink to a small point.

"Peeta!"

I run to him and embrace him from behind and wrap my arms around his middle. My head rests on his upper back which bobs up and down from his erratic breathing. This isn't working. I circle around to his front and pry his hands away from the table by getting underneath him and try to straighten him up. Peeta starts to tremble and gasp. Before I know what's happening, Peeta and I start to fall backwards and I wrap my arms to the back of his head just in time for him to smack into the floor with me on top of him. My arms hurt from being a cushion to his head from the fall, but I ignore it.

"Peeta! Can you hear me?" I straddle him and lean down to put my face in front of his. His eyes are darting around like he's in another world with something to be afraid of in every corner. "Not real, Peeta!" I shout, but he doesn't respond. He's lost in his mind and I have to find a way to pull him out. I think back to the only thing that worked before.

Without hesitation, I press my mouth to his. At first he starts to shake harder and make noises in between my kiss and I have to press my lips against his hard. I don't stop, determined to pull him out if this. After a few moments, the trembling stops and his breathing starts to slow. I look into his eyes and his pupils go back to normal. Then, I start to feel his lips purse and kiss me back. I pull away and break the kiss to look at him. Peeta looks around taking in that he's on the floor and I'm on top of him. He takes a long sweeping look at me straddling him. He then sits up so that his face is only a few inches from mine. He searches my eyes, but doesn't say or do anything else. I start to feel uncomfortable because I know Peeta probably doesn't want me to be sitting on him this way like last time. What if he's upset and I just made things worse.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do." I say looking away and shifting my weight on my right leg so I can swing off of him. Suddenly, he grabs my arm.

"Wait." He says. I slowly sit back down on him reluctantly. I look away and wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. He releases my arm and reaches his hand up under my chin and gently turns my head to look at him like he did on the porch. He looks in my eyes again. I feel his other hand slide to my thigh and hold me against him. I must have a look of confusion on my face because Peeta just smiles at me. Then, the hand under my chin caresses its way under my ear and starts pulling my face towards his and he starts moving toward me to meet me. I have a moment of panic, but the instant that our noses touch, the familiarity of this boy and the memory of the comfort and friendship we have shared wins out. I close my eyes and feel his lips meet mine.

Finally, I feel like I am where I should be. Ever since I lost peeta after the quell I felt like I've been floating in an abyss, struggling to find the surface. But right now, with Peeta, this kiss feels like the gulp of air that I've been looking for. Its a slow and tender kiss, none like we had ever shared before, because this one is full of love, pain, and healing. We kiss each other gently like a promise. After a while, slowly, we pull away and rest our foreheads against each other.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers. "Do you really think I don't want you?" I open my eyes and find his so close. Searching. Of course he knew what I was thinking. He doesn't even try to ask me too many questions anymore. He just searches my eyes and watches me and somehow knows. I want to tell him that I already know. He doesn't want me and he doesn't have to hide it anymore.

"Of course I do. When we were on the couch after you first drew Cinna and I was on your lap..." Peeta pulls away to look at me suddenly. His blonde eyebrows pinch together and his blue eyes pierce through me like he is trying to make sense of something.

"You... did that on purpose?" He asks slowly with disbelief. Both of us know we're are talking about the stretch. I feel the hot bright red color that surely covers every inch of my skin, and I turn and try to get up off of him, but he holds me down by gripping my thighs even tighter now.

"Katniss, tell me. Is that why you've been distant towards me?"

I sigh and nod at the floor. He would find out anyway somehow. There is no use lying to Peeta. He always said I was a bad liar. Peeta takes a breath that sounds like a sigh and a gasp.

"Katniss, I left because I didn't think you knew the effect you were having on me and if I had stayed much longer I would have lost all the self-control that I had. Besides, I thought you stretched because you were getting tired."

"Oh." Is all I can manage. I can't quite wrap my head around anyone, let alone Peeta, wanting me in that way. I look back at Peeta who chuckles and shakes his head.

We both get up off of the floor. As he is helping me up, he sees my arms which are red and starting to bruise.

"Katniss! What happened did I do this!?" Peeta asks in a rush.

"No! We started to fall backwards so I used my arms to protect your head from hitting the floor too hard."

He looks at me and kisses the redness on the inside of my arms. "Next time just let me fall. Katniss, this looks painful." He looks at my arms sadly.

"Its what we do." I say simply. Peeta squeezes his eyes closed and nods. "We protect each other." He finishes with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks pass without anymore kisses, and we don't talk much about what happened. It was as if we cleared the air and now we have time and space to go as slow as we want. As much as I want Peeta to be more than a friend right now, and I'm starting to accept that he feels the same, I appreciate that we aren't rushing into anything. We are both very broken and I think our concern for the others health and mental stability supersedes our desires. I'm not convinced we are even capable of having a semi-normal relationship. How do you have a real relationship after your fake one, and only one was on show for all of Panem?

The memory book, although it is helping us sort out our grief and guilt, is also very taxing. We have finished most of the tributes we killed, and have moved on to Peeta's family, per his request. We have spent the past four nights starting a memory or a sketch, and ending in Peeta either crying, getting angry-a side effect of the hijacking, or even full on having an episode.

None of the episodes have been as bad as the night we kissed. I asked Peeta if it was my fault that that one was so bad, for how I had been acting, but he didn't respond so I know that I'm right. I still don't think that peeta will hurt me. Even that day, he had much more control than I had ever seen. But, it doesn't prevent our nights in ending in me holding Peeta, trying to give him comfort and the illusion of security. It took me a full week to get through Finnick's page, and judging how Peeta is reacting, I don't think I'll ever be able to add Prim. Maybe I should just ask him to make a painting of her to keep in my room.

Tonight, however, we decide to take a break from his family, and add some memories of ones we have already added but have remembered more after. I sit on the floor and Peeta sits in the couch. He is wearing worn pants with holes in the knees, a white short-sleeved cotton shirt, and no shoes or socks. He is resting his ankle on his other knee and draws on the notebook that is draped across his lap. His blonde hair is starting to grow longer and I can't help but stare at it sometimes, resisting the urge to run my fingers through the soft waves. He works diligently with his head bowed down parallel to the paper. Gale often looked this way when we hunted in whatever clothes we had, with longer hair sometimes before he worked in the mines, but I never really noticed it and Peeta right now is the image of perfection. His shoulders, arms, and chest are filling out not only from the hard labor he does here and there in town, helping the clean-up crews, but also from growing into a man. The white shirt he is wearing is obviously one he's had for a while because the chest and arms fit tight, used to the body of a boy and not one of a man.

"Katniss, what?" I snap out my daze and try to act like I'm writing something down, hoping he won't ask anything else.

"Katniss. You've been staring at me all night. What is it?" He won't leave it alone. I huff and set my things aside. I decide that I should just learn to say what I'm thinking. At least to Peeta. I look him in the eye and try to figure out how to start.

"I... was just thinking." I try to start, but the words hang in the air.

"You were just thinking..." Peeta encourages.

"I like... how you look." I say. Peeta bites his lower lip and starts to smile.

"I like how you look too. A lot." He says in his deep silky voice. I grin and feel embarrassed so I try to focus on my notes, but just end up staring at my paper for about 30 minutes and thinking about Peeta before we part for the night.

The nights are getting warmer, and I start sleeping with my windows open. I haven't had any major night terrors recently, because of the book forcing me to face all of my memories which prevents them from haunting me at night as strongly. Until one night when they all seem to catch up with me at once.

Prim is pleading with me to help her as she slowly burns. Her skin melting off of her bones and voice gurgling from her own boiling blood. I watch finnick get ripped apart by the mutts slowly. His screams are punctuated with my name on his tongue before it is ripped out of his head. In the distance, I hear a faint sound of wailing. The sound gets closer as my dead sister and friend lay as a puddle of blood and ash.

When I start to come back to reality I feel my throat burn and I hear my own voice making the wailing. I feel a gentle shake and squeeze and hear Peeta whisper my name. When I open my eyes, I see him sitting on the edge of my bed. I stare at him for a moment, and then I start to sob uncontrollably. Peeta crawls in my bed with me and holds me to his chest. I bunch his shirt in my hands desperately trying to hold on to something. I sob for an unknown amount of time until I feel vacant and numb. Peeta doesn't ask, he just knows, and he stays with me that night. I eventually fall asleep on his chest like I did so long ago.

When I wake, peeta is still holding me. His shirt is wet from where I cried in my sleep. He must feel me stir, because he starts to blink and turns and kisses the top of my head. In the growing morning light, I become aware of all the things I wasn't able to notice last night in my sorrow. My nightgown bunched up high at my waist from my thrashing which is exposing my underwear. On top on that, my leg is stretched across Peeta in a provocative way. I lift up the covers to confirm my assumption and press them back down on top of us quickly hoping peeta didn't see.

Peeta starts a low rumble laugh in his chest and I start tucking my leg back in place and pulling my nightgown back down.

"It's not funny." I say forcefully, which makes Peeta laugh more.

"This was a nice surprise for me this morning." He flirts and then gets serious. "But your night was not funny. I'm sorry katniss, do you want to talk about what you dreamed?"

"No. There's nothing to say. I just want to try and forget it. Among other things this morning." I get up out of bed and announce that I'm taking a shower. When Peeta stays in my bed as I walk around, I grow annoyed.

"Are you just going to lay in bed?" I snap.

"I, uh , just need a minute. To... calm down." He says amused.

I scoff in response. But, I can't help the pleasure I feel from knowing I have that effect on Peeta. I can't understand what he finds about me that is nice, especially with my burn scars, but it makes me happy anyway.

"I can get up if you want." He says playfully as he sits up and throws the covers back. Once he swings his legs to the side and stands up, I see it. His erection is straining against his pajama pants. I gasp and duck into the bathroom closing the door. I hear Peeta laughing on the other side.

"Katniss. You really are pure." He teases. This is Peeta's way of finding his old self while also trying to keep me out of my depression that's he's become accustomed to knowing when I'm on the verge. Both are working. He's becoming more and more like the old Peeta and he is the only one that can take me out if my thoughts. I never had a chance to know Peeta too closely before we were reaped, but in fleeting moments that weren't under intense stress, I could see his playfulness in the way he laughed with his friends before our games.

I toss off my nightgown and jump into the shower before I can get any more flustered. I take a long shower trying to think of anything else other than the size of Peetas hardness in his pajama pants. Can that actually fit inside me? It will most definitely be painful. However, I can't stop imagining what it would feel like so I eventually just have to just shut off the water and find something else to distract me.

Its a good day to hunt, so I dress for it. Its late spring and the warmth has brought forth new life in plants and animals. I climb a tree and I watch the dandelions in the grass sway with the wind. Peeta. He consumes my thoughts now ever since I decided to live for Prim. To let myself live and feel again, or maybe for the first time since my father died. Peeta brings it out in me. Fate brought me the one person who can give me comfort and hope.

I didn't set any traps the day before, so I shoot squirrels from the tree I'm in. Then, I climb down the tree and stalk around for some big game. I find myself moving towards the lake, so I walk the rest of the way there. When I get there, the lake looks exactly how it should in late spring. I tuck in my game bag and bow and arrows and strip my clothing off. Its about midday so its starting to get hot. I slip into the cool water and float on my back for a long time watching the clouds flow and the birds fly past. I keep getting flashes of my dream, but the beautiful day wards them off. I'm also getting used to these dreams, these disturbing flashes of the very real gruesome deaths of my loved ones that are becoming a normal and expected part of every day.

I finally swim to the edge and wade out of the lake. I find some katniss plants, so I dig them up. Since I'm here, I also decide to fish and manage to catch a few big ones for supper tonight. Feeling satisfied, I put my clothes back on, re-braid my hair, and clean my kills. I take the long way around the town through the woods to avoid actually having to go into town and be gawked at. I crawl under an opening in the fence when I get close to Greasy Sae's and jog behind houses as much as I can until I am able to pass off the squirrels to her. I decide to keep the katniss roots and the fish for Peeta and I. I duck back into the woods and take the long way around to get back home for the same reasons.

When I finally get through the Victors Village gate, the sun is getting lower in the sky and casting long shadows. I turn towards Peeta's house and walk in without knocking. When I get inside, everything is off and the house is silent. I stand there for a few minutes listening for any small sound the would indicate Peeta being here, but nothing happens. I walk back out of his house and over to Haymichs. I start to think about when I lost Peeta during the quell and I feel my adrenaline spike and my heart rate pick up. I burst through Haymich's door and barge in to the living room where I find him passed out on the couch.

"Haymich!" I yell. No response. I walk to the kitchen, fill a large dirty pot full of water, walk back to the couch, stand a safe distance away, and toss the water onto Haymichs head. He starts and spurts and the knife in his hand thrusts up in my direction. I flip the pot over and use the copper bottom to knock it out of his hand. Haymich yells and jumps off the couch. He blinks at me and growls.

"Of course! You know, maybe it's things like this that make people not like you so much, have you thought of that, Sweetheart?"

"I don't want people to like me. Peeta is not in his house." I say evenly.

"If it weren't for the boy, you would have died in your first games. He knows how to be likeable. You would have never gotten any sponsors and never gotten FOOD, or MEDICINE." He punctuates this last words by saying them slowly like you would to someone who is hard-of-understanding.

"Where is Peeta?" I ask again. I just want to find him. My anxiety is rising and Haymich's disregard for my question is making it worse.

"'Course, the boy wouldn't have made it either, but that's beside the point. I still can't believe he turned that hijacking around as much as he did. You know, you could really learn a thing or two from him about..."

"WHERE IS PEETA!?" I yell and throw the pot I'm holding at Haymich's head. He deflects the pot right before it hits him and it crashes into the wall with an enormous sound as it then falls to the floor.

"Katniss?" I whip around to see Peeta standing in the doorway covered in dust and dirt and sweat, wiping it off of his face with a rag. He was working in town with the cleaning crews.

"I was walking back and Haymich's door was open. Did something happen?" He says as he walks in toward me sizing up Haymich, myself, and our situation .

"Come get your dog off me! She came in here screaming about not knowing where you were. Listen, sweetheart, I know you're not all right up there," he taps his head, "but you need to get it together and get the hell out of my house!"

Before I have a chance to lunge at Haymich, I feel Peetas hand on my shoulder. I turn to him and he touches my cheek.

"What happened?" He asks gently.

"I came back from the woods," I begin after a breath, "and you weren't in your house. Then, I started thinking about the quell when I lost you and I ran here. Haymich just babbled about how we would have died in the games and didn't answer my questions," Peeta throws a pointed look in Haymich's direction and Haymich shrugs angrily.

"So I threw a pot at him." I say. Peeta turns his pointed look to me.

"But it didn't hit him! He deflected it before it hit his head! He should have just answered my question!"

"OUT! NOW!" Haymich yells. Peeta guides me out of Haymichs house and Haymich slams the door behind us. I break from Peeta and run into my house and close the door hoping on some miracle that Peeta won't follow. But, of course he does.

I sit against the wall in the foyer and try to blink back tears while taking off my boots and setting down my bow and arrows. Peeta leans against the back of the front door and just watches me. By the time I get to my game bag, the tears start rolling and infuriatingly I can't hide it anymore. Not that I believe I was able to hide my emotions from Peeta anyway.

Peeta walks over to me, takes my game bag and sets it down. He turns me around and folds me into his chest and wraps his arms around me.

"I didn't know what to think. I just kept thinking about the quell." I sob. Peeta shushes me and rubs small circles on my back.

"I know. It's alright, I'm here." He peels me back and holds my face in front of his. He lowers his head and and his eyes meet mine. The dirt and dust from working in town makes his blue eyes look like pools of water so blue you could sink down into them.

This time, I can't stand it anymore and I lean up and kiss him. He hums in satisfaction when our lips meet and I reach my arms up around his neck. He circles one of his arms around my lower back and presses me closer. I break away and sniffle and he kisses my tears away on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry I scared you. We worked later than normal today. Would it help if I tell you my plans for the day from now on?" He asks, still in our embrace. I release a breath and lay my head against his strong chest.

"Maybe. Yes." I say. Sucking in bursts of air from sobbing earlier. I've done more crying in the past couple months than I have in my whole life combined. Who am I now? What am I becoming?

"Then it's settled." I pull back just enough to stay in our embrace but see his face. He smiles a good Peeta smile at me and I can't help but give a small smile for the ridiculousness of the situation.

"No more confusion. Did you have a good day?"

I break away from peeta and we walk to the kitchen where I take out the fish and katniss roots from my game bag. Peeta smiles when he sees the katniss.

"This is good, katniss. I'll take these home, take a shower, and start preparing this for supper." He gathers up the contents, and starts walking to the door.

"Just come over whenever you're ready and we'll eat at my house."

"OK." I say with a small voice.

After he leaves, I shower and dress in clean clothes. Greasy Sae only comes once a week now and insists on doing my laundry. Says its payment for what I bring her from the woods since I won't accept her money. It makes me uncomfortable, but I accept because I was never good at laundry. That was something that Prim liked to take care of.

I toss buttercup some scraps from the breakfast that Peeta and I ate briefly this morning and walk to Peetas house. When I walk in, his house is full of the life I was expecting earlier. Lights are on and there are the clanging and hissing sounds of Peeta cooking in the kitchen. I tiptoe inside and watch Peeta cook from the archway to the kitchen.

He's wearing another white shirt and clean pants with his bakers apron tied around his neck and waist. His hair is wet from his shower and makes semi-ringlets on the ends. I watch as he skillfully pours, mixes, and sprinkles. He starts to turn around to grab something and catches sight of me. He startles and nearly drops the seasoning that he's holding.

"Katniss!"

I smile and walk to him, but instead of embracing me, he grips the counter and takes deep breaths. Then it hits me how stupid I was for sneaking up on him.

"Peeta! I'm so sorry!" I lift his face and I look into his eyes of which the pupils contract once slightly.

"Oh no, Peeta."

"It's alright you just startled me." I dip under his arms and get in between him and the counter. Then I hug him to me as hard as I can. Peeta continues to take deep breaths for a moment and then wraps his arms around me.

"I'm so so sorry." I say again.

"Katniss, it's fine. Really. I like that you were trying to play. I can react like this to a lot of things. It will get better, don't worry."

With that he squeezes my arm and goes back to cooking. He looks back at me and pats the countertop that he isn't using. I hop up on it to sit and watch him cook. Peeta starts talking about his day working in town. I listen and realize that I have no clue what's happening in town anymore. This district and these people used to mean everything to me, but now I feel like a stranger. Most of the people that live here now are new, anyway.

"Peeta, when you are working in town do you ever get harassed or gawked at?"

"Not really. I don't think I look like the capitol version of myself enough that most people would recognize me when I'm shoveling ash and brick. Anyone else that knows its me already knew me before. Only the guys on the crew know of my condition in case I have an episode. But, I do get the occasional odd look from someone passing by like they can't place me." Peeta smiles. "You're a lot more recognizable, katniss," he says knowingly. "Here, taste this."

He holds out a liquid that I assume is to go with the fish. It tastes fruity.

"That's good." I say. Peeta nods and keeps cooking. I slide off the counter and start setting the table. When peeta is done cooking, we eat and the food is delicious. I think it's remarkable that Peeta can make such incredible meals even out of the things I find in the woods that day. I'm done first so I take my plate and the empty serving dishes to the sink and start washing. I hear Peeta get up a moment later and he places his plate in the sink in front of me.

Instead of taking his usual place beside me to dry the dishes I feel him stand behind me so close I can feel his breath lightly moving the hair on the back of my head. Suddenly, I feel his finger lightly on the back of my neck and I stop washing and hold my breath. Peeta traces his finger slowly down my spine and stops right before my bottom. I shiver visibly and Peeta makes a sound low humming in his throat. He takes a step to the side and I turn my head to see his face.

He has his head down looking at my lower back but lifts only his eyes to meet mine. He slowly tips his head up and gives me a intense but soft smile that makes my heart speed up. Then, like nothing ever happened, he walks to the place beside me and starts drying the dishes. I go back to the task of washing the dishes, but find I'm now thoroughly distracted. I don't know what that was exactly, but I know down to the center of my being that I've never been touched that way before, no matter how simple it was.

And I liked it.

After supper, we work on the book until late. I see Peeta yawn often, but he never says it's time for bed. I don't either and I know it's because we aren't sure if we should sleep separately or together after last night. After a few quiet moments, Peeta sighs.

"Katniss, I'm tired. You must be too." I nod at him, anxious to hear what he decided. I made up my mind before that I would let Peeta in as much as he wanted, and if he wanted to go, I would let him do that too.

"Stay with me?" He asks, eyes full of vulnerability.

I believe the edges of my mouth must have reached my ears for the smile I gave him in that moment.

"Always," I say.

From that day forward Peeta and I sleep in the same bed. In the span of about 2 weeks, we got into a pattern of sleeping at his house, because that's where we had supper. I only went home to change, shower, and feed buttercup. That stupid cat sleeps outside Prim's door, refusing to give up hope. Seeing that makes me want to crawl in a closet and stay there, so I throw some scraps In a bowl a dive out of the house. As much as I hate that cat, he was Prim's cat and I can't let him die too.

When I wake up from a nightmare, Peeta will comfort me with his kisses. When Peeta has a flashback, I kiss him back to me. Our kisses are short, light, sweet, and bring comfort and reassurance. Kissing during the games was for survival, and it still is. But, now I'm not doing it to convince anyone, I'm doing it because I need Peeta's lips on mine. And he seems to need mine too.

The spring faded into summer and now the days are getting hot. On the first night where the night was hot, not even Peeta's window being open helped it. We were miserable. We both lay in our own sweat through our pajamas. Peeta in his shirt and pajama pants, and me in my long cotton nightgown. I haven't allowed myself to wear any of the short ones for fear it would ride up again. Peeta tossed and turned and flopped around trying to find a position that made him cool enough to go to sleep, but none existed. After a few hours, he shot up in bed and turned to me.

"Katniss I'm sorry, but I have to take care of this heat."

Without waiting for a response, he crawls over me and slides off the bed. First, he reaches behind his head, grabs the back of his collar and pulls his shirt off. I smile to myself thinking maybe this heat isn't that bad. For the first time, I see through the slivers of moonlight that bounce off of Peeta's skin how Peeta has changed. He had muscles before from training, but with his broadening shoulders and the consistent hard labor, he is the definition of masculine attractiveness. Then, In the darkness of the night, I just barely see Peeta's silhouette grab the waist of his pajama pants and pull them down where they puddle on the floor.

"Peeta!"

"Katniss, come on. You've seen me like this before," he says as he kicks off the pants with his good leg standing in only his boxers.

"Seen, not felt! In bed!"

"Katniss. It's too hot and we need to get past this. We've been through enough not to have to suffer through a sleepless night because of the heat. We already have nightmares." He's right. We have been through enough. I've just never been so intimate with just a thin barrier between us before, but I do need to get through this. Its way too hot.

"You're right Peeta." Who am I to make him suffer all night.

"I know I am. Now, you too."

I gasp and fully shake my head no in response. Reveal my ugly burn scars to Peeta willingly? No, thank you.

"Katniss, I'm sweating just looking at you in that huge thing. You have to be hot in there."

"I'm fine." I say firmly. I am OK if Peeta wants to sleep in his underwear, but I can't do that. He looks at me for a minute and finally shrugs.

"Suit yourself." he says and crawls back in bed. He sighs happily when he settles himself in the bed comfortably.

"Feel better?" I ask.

"Definitely." He answers without hesitation.

I let about a half hour pass before the inside of my gown is wet with sweat. I can bear it until it reminds me of the hot, wet air in the quell. Then I can't shake the memories and I feel like I'm suffocating. I sigh loudly and swing off of the bed in one movement. Peeta, who was dozing, stirs awake and props himself up on his elbow. I stand in the middle of the bedroom for a moment unsure what to do. I want to get this wet gown off, but I don't have a top on underneath to replace it. But, as always, its as if Peeta can read my thoughts.

"Bottom left drawer," is all he says. I shoot him a look that he pretends not to see and I pad over to his dresser and ruffle through the drawer. In it I find some things that look like baby clothes to clothes for a older kid. Finally, I pull out a white undershirt without sleeves that was obviously his when he was young. It will just barely fit me. I slip into the bathroom and duck behind the wall without closing the door. I fling off my nightgown and pour myself into Peetas old tank top. I stare at myself in the mirror for a while. The tank top only goes to just past my belly button and leaves nothing to the imagination. My underwear is all I have on below. I start to doubt myself and consider putting my nightgown back on when I hear Peeta call me from the bed. I tell myself that it's not a big deal, it's just peeta and it is unbearably hot, and march out of the bathroom without letting myself think about it more.

When I clear the bathroom and start walking to the bed Peeta's eyes nearly pop out of his head and his mouth hangs open. I take a deep breath and focus on the moon outside the window until I get to the bed. I toss back the single blanket we have right now, slip into the bed and cover myself with the blanket up to my neck. Peeta keeps staring at me.

"Well!?" I half yell at him. Peeta blinks and closes his mouth. He lies back and opens his arms to me. I relax and scoot next to him and lay my head down in its usual spot on his now bare chest. There are blonde hairs growing from his chest that I've never noticed before. I run my fingers along them and the expanse of his skin. I take a deep breath and inhale his scent directly off his skin.

"You have no idea how many times I imagined you in just your underwear walking towards me like that." He whispers into the top of my head. I feel my face heat up. I don't know how to respond to Peeta when he says things like that.

"You're beautiful, Katniss." He says and slowly drifts off to sleep.

When I start to wake in the morning I'm consumed by the intense feeling of security and warmth. As I come to, I realize I'm on my stomach and Peeta is laying on half of me. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders, tightly holding me to him. His torso and legs are also pinning me. This makes me think of Peetas wrestling days. Then I feel it. The pulsing from Peeta's hardness below that is becoming a more common occurrence. However, this time our position has landed Peetas rapidly growing area close to my own sensitive parts. I freeze and try to think. Peeta is getting harder by the second and I feel the heat radiating off of him.

Within a few more seconds it rests lightly against my underwear between my legs. I hold my breath. Should I wake Peeta? Do I want to wake Peeta? Slowly he moves, unconsciously thrusting forward and poking me. I gasp and jerk in surprise and Peeta starts. When he feels and sees how we are he frantically tries to move away and tuck himself in.

"Katniss!" Peeta looks at me in shock. "I... what happened? I'm so sorry! Are you OK? Did I do something...?" Peeta stumbles.

The look on Peetas face, plus his confusion and worry is all it takes for me to start chuckling. Peeta looks on completely perplexed with his hair a mess still from sleep which makes me laugh harder. Eventually, Peeta starts chuckling too mostly at my laughing fit. When I start to control myself again, Peeta looks at me like a worried child waiting for his punishment.

"Katniss. Are you mad at me? I never meant to do anything, I promise."

"I know that. It's OK Peeta. Besides, its not like your... parts doing that is anything new to me. You usually wake up in that condition." Peeta's mouth drops open and I take this rare opportunity to be in the other end of this situation. I wink at him and crawl out of bed and saunter into the bathroom to shower. When I meet him downstairs for breakfast, Peeta looks sheepish. I know he wants to talk about it.

I decide to act like nothing happened. Mostly because I like having the upper hand and I don't want to talk about it. But, as usual, Peeta's need to talk so openly about everything is an unstoppable force.

"Katniss, are you sure you're alright? I'd never forgive myself if I made you upset from something like that."

I sigh. He looks so worried. "Peeta, its fine really. I didn't mind."

Did I just say I didn't mind? Is that true? Peeta looks at me curiously and then a slow smile creeps over his face. Oh no.

I brace myself for Peeta's next question, but it never comes. We sit in silence, eating pancakes that he just learned to make, stealing glances from each other. Mine, hoping against all odds that Peeta doesn't see through what I just said. Peeta, looking at me like he knows exactly what I just said. How is it that he can know what I'm feeling before I do.

I spend extra time in the woods to pull my thoughts together. Obviously, Peeta and I are becoming more intimate with each other. I never really thought about sex before now, other than not wanting to have anything to do with it. Sex meant babies and stupidity to me. But now, with Peeta with me every night, I see how it could happen. I'm not sure if we are even capable, but it's possible.

I decide to start taking the pills that Dr. Aurelius sent with the last shipment of paper and supplies for our memory book. They are supposed to make me unable to get pregnant. I only talk to the doctor occasionally, and that seems to suit us both fine. Peeta talks to him much more frequently so they can monitor his episodes. I assume that Peeta told him about our sleeping arrangement which is why we got the pills. When we opened the box, we looked at the pills curiously and he read the note that came with them out loud. Peeta turned red and I tossed the pills into a drawer and slammed it shut, seeing them as irrelevant. Peeta just stared at me.

That was about a month ago. Now its time to be realistic and cautious. I will never have children. I can't even take care of myself anymore and I couldn't save my sister, the only one I tried endlessly to protect. I let Peeta slip away and he got kidnapped. On top of that, what if they do bring back the games? I'm sure the victors' children will play a leading role in that. There are too many risks. It is out of the question.

In the distance, I see big powerful clouds rolling this way. The wind is picking up and the temperature is starting to drop. After another hour, the sunlight is starting to turn a shady sort of grey and I can smell rain. I quickly check the traps I set and find three rabbits and two squirrels. I also manage to shoot a turkey which I can't wait to get home to Peeta.

By the time I get to Greasy Sae's, the sky is overcast and the dark clouds are on the horizon. I pass the rabbits and squirrels to her and step back outside. If I go back into the woods the long way, I will most likely get caught in the rain. I scan the street and notice that it isn't as busy as normal. People must be getting inside to wait out the storm. With that, I set my chin and decide to go through town.

As I walk through, the few people out stare, but don't say anything. Some I think I remember from Thirteen, but most are obviously from other districts. I don't see many people that are District Twelve. As I get closer to one part of the merchant area I hear hammers and turn on my heel to see if Peeta is there. When I get to the site, I see him immediately. He is standing by a pile of brick and cement and picking them up and dumping them in a wheelbarrow. The big ones he can't lift, he lifts a sledgehammer and breaks it. His shirt is soaked from sweat and his golden hair is falling in waves and curls from the work and sweat. I can plainly see all of the muscles in his back and arms from his wet shirt that clings to his skin. His body tapers down to his small waist where he has a tool belt hanging on his hips.

I don't know how long I gaze at him, but it must be long enough for a few of the people on the street to stop and watch me. Peeta finally turns and catches sight of me. He instantly grins and waves. I hold up my game bag.

"I got a turkey!" I yell up to him. He drops the rubble he's holding and jumps over piles of brick to come my way. When he gets to me he kisses me on the cheek, I hear a gasp behind me and notice a larger crowd is forming. I look back at Peeta and he smiles at me.

"Well, I guess now my cover is blown." He peeks in my game bag and nods in approval.

"I have a recipe for turkey baked with a honey glaze that I've been waiting to try," he says.

I glance up to the sky. "Its going rain soon."

"Yeah, I just have a few more minutes and then we are packing it up for the day." He says looking up, judging the clouds. I nod and look around nervously at the people staring again. It isn't many, but it's enough to make me uncomfortable. I even see Peeta's jaw tighten for a second.

"I better go," I whisper to him. He gives me an apologetic look and leans in and kisses me on the cheek again. That's when out of the corner of my eye I see a man jump out with a camera and start snapping pictures of us. As a reflex, I set an arrow and point it at the guy's head. The small crowd parts away from him and he drops the camera to dangle from its strap slung around his shoulder and holds up his hands terrified.

"Who are you! Why are you here!" I yell at him.

"I... I work for the Panem newspaper!" He stammers and waits for my response like I'm supposed to know what that means, but when I keep my bow locked, he realizes he has to explain.

"I'm here just to write about the progress of the district." He says nervously.

"We are not part of your story." I say evenly. Then, I feel Peetas hand slip and hold me around my waist from behind me.

"Katniss." He whispers softly in my ear. I turn my head and look at him. His eyes are full of security telling me that everything is alright. The man with the camera takes this opportunity and runs away as fast as he can. The small crowd dissipates, probably scared I'll run them down with my bow and arrows too. I am a crazy president-killer after all.

"Well, Katniss, I think you took care of that problem." He chuckles. I look over his shoulder and see some of the crew standing watching us. Thom clears His throat.

"Mellark, why don't you just call it a day. We are going to pack up before this rain comes and you've already cleaned up your area anyway."

Peeta nods and thanks Thom and we set off together back up to victors village. There are a few people out, but now they try to disguise the fact that they are staring at us, most likely having seen or already heard about my little outburst. I decide that that isn't as bad as the blatant gawking and crowding, so maybe I just need to keep threatening people from time to time. That seems manageable enough.

By the time we get to Victors Village, fat drops begin to fall from the sky. Peeta and I sigh from the coolness of the rain. I start to point my feet towards my house, but Peeta pulls on my hand towards his.

"The storm might get worse and I want to get that bird started," He says matter-of-factly. I nod and allow myself to be pulled. Once we get inside, Peeta jumps in the shower while I clean my kill and prepare it for supper. I am not good at cooking or especially baking, but I am good at this.

He's back in 10 minutes and takes over. His hair wet and I can smell the sweet smell of soap from his hair and skin. I walk closer to him trying to get a better smell, and he smiles at me sweetly. Suddenly, lightning crashes and makes us both grip anything that's close to us. Lighting always makes us think of the quell. I look to Peeta and the muscles in his strong jaw are churning.

"Go jump in the shower, the storm should be over soon," he says without emotion and turns his back to me to finish preparing the turkey. I know this part of Peeta. He's consumed by his mind, desperately trying to stay afloat in his ocean of shiny and dull memories, deafened by the roar of angry and sad emotions he tries to not hear. It makes him void, exhausted, and-most hurtful of all-not mine.

I know this is a part of him that I will never own. Snow owns this piece of him that I can never buy back. Its punishment for leaving him in the arena that night. Punishment for not protecting him enough. I try hard not to be angry with Peeta, try not to be selfish. Truly, I deserve this. I never gave Peeta any reassurance in our relationship (whatever it was) and he gave me everything he had. But it's in those moments when Peeta turns his back to me, tells me to go, and drowns in a world I caused is when I feel the most alone.


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks go by, and the consistent afternoon summer storms make us both tense. I jump at every loud noise, only thinking the worst at first. Flashes of blood and fire display themselves in my vision, and each time it takes me twice as long to calm down. Peeta hasn't laughed in days. The effort to keep up appearances is weighing heavy in the muscles around his eyes. The storms have made us overly sensitive. Even a slight tapping of light rain is enough to make Peeta cling to furniture and me want to dive into the cabinet. At night, before we manage to sleep the few torturous moments before we wake each other with our thrashing and screams, I think about how we are so haunted. Even in thirteen, real threats were still around every corner. But now that we are supposed to be safe, it's harder to relax. As if our enemy is more clever now, and has learned to hide where we won't expect them, making us paranoid. When you grow up with the games and starvation all climaxing into two games and a war, you can't understand how there can't be something waiting to kill you. Something lurking around the door or in the rain. I know Peeta feels this too.

Peeta is worse. I almost feel like I did in the months before Peeta came back to Twelve. Lost and alone. Peeta is just a warm body that mutters an occasional useless greeting or mundane question whenever he breaks through his own storm enough to force something out. My loneliness is slowly taken over by determination as the days stretch on and I want bring Peeta back to me. When I try to hold his hand he squeezes hard erratically and then let's go quickly like he's being burned. He's afraid he'll hurt me. I think it's ridiculous that he thinks he could ever hurt me. Deep down I know the weather is more than the quell to him. I know something about this reminds him of when he was captured and hijacked, but when I try to ask him about it, he gives only curt answers and ends the conversation.

There was one day where there were no dark clouds, rain, or lightening. I hunted and Peeta baked. I saw him smile and a playful spark return in the shadows of his eyes. Where his eyes were turning into a pale blue-gray, like they were after he was rescued, they were becoming bluer and brighter again that day. By the end of the day, he kissed my lips before bed and we slept long and hard from exhaustion.

The next morning was still clear and I went into the woods to get more game and Peeta went into town to see how the clean up crews were doing and if they needed help. The morning provided to be productive and I had a full game bag before noon. I took the time to walk to the lake and take in its fullness from the extra rain.

Over the mountain across the lake, I see the puffy white tops of thunder clouds expanding and moving this way. I huff in frustration and kick the dirt. I glare at the clouds which bring misery to my life for a long minute, grunt as I sling my game bag over my shoulder, and begin the hike back to town. It's normal for district twelve to get storms in the summer, but occasionally we have ones that go on for weeks. Sometimes they come in the form of thick windy snow in the winter. In school, they taught us that this was because of pollution that built up in the old days. Now we have unpredictable and often harsh weather.

When I get to town everyone is out enjoying the break of sunshine. I quickly dart through the streets with my head down to get to Sae's. I register in the back of my mind that soon I'll have to get used to this and so will the new citizens of district twelve, but that will only take time. Just like everything else about the horrors of what happened to all of us. When I get to Greasy Sae's, I keep more than usual in case the storms continue their assault and I can't make it to the woods. I also buy two bowls of her stew that looks like beans and some other vegetables she had stored and promise to bring back her bowls. When the storm rolls in Peeta should not worry about cooking. Maybe if I make everything easy for him he won't disappear into his mind. I know it's a naive thought, but I want to try it anyway.

By the time Peeta comes home, I have cleaned and prepared all of the meat for storage or cooking and the clouds are creeping in. I warm up the stew on the stove and set it on the table. Peeta looks tired, but still present. After supper, we clean up and climb the stairs to his bedroom. The storm has intensified and this is the worst one yet. The thunder shakes the house the wind makes the walls creak. I take a shower first and when I get out Peeta is clenching and unclenching his fists and staring at the window. He wordlessly steps into the bathroom and starts his own shower.

I can't lose him again, I have to try to get him to stay with me. I slowly change into a light and soft shirt and shorts that I've been sleeping in and wait for Peeta. I rack my brain trying to think of things that would make him connect and stay in this world, memories or things he enjoys, but by the time he steps out of the shower, I've thought of none.

Peeta offers me a warm, but tense smile. He moves stiffly and quickly like he has to force himself to move. We both climb into bed and he turns off the light. I turn on my side and wait for him to kiss me. He leans up and presses his lips to mine swiftly and falls back down in the mattress, his mind occupied. I sigh and lay down. He is the first to fall asleep and twitches from nightmares. Mine follow soon after.

I'm in the quell and the wire has snapped and I'm back at the tree. Peeta isn't here and my heart is in my throat. I hear the rumbling of thunder and rain in the distance that is the tell of the lighting strike that is about to happen. I look in my hands and I'm holding the arrow with the wire wrapped around it ready on my bow. I frantically look around.

"Peeta!" I scream. I wait for a response. Nothing.

"Peeta!" I yell louder uncaring about who will hear me. I look at my hands again and I'm pointing the arrow at the sky. I know this story. I've left Peeta and I have to find him. I have to find him before something happens to him.

I struggle to break from this spell, and manage to lower my bow and after a minute throw it on the ground. Something about this freedom registers in the shadows of my mind that I've never done this before. Without wanting to waste more time I take off running back into the woods. I scream Peeta's name over and over while I crash through bushes and branches. Finally, when I've made my way halfway to the beach I hear him.

Its soft but urgent. Like a whisper amplified and in the shape of my name. I yell for Peeta louder and then quiet myself trying to find the direction of Peeta's voice. His voice sounds broken and sad and I panic starting to wonder what happened to him since I left with Joanna. I keep hunting Peeta's voice and it grows louder but I don't see any other sign of him. No crunching of leaves and twigs. No breathing. My vision blurs and tears start to stream down my face. Am I too late? I hear the others yelling for me to come back to the tree and finish the plan, but I don't care about them or their plan. I only want Peeta and now I've lost him.

I sink to the ground and make gasping sobs while hopelessly trying to call for him. I feel sick. His voice is still calling to me but it dawns on me that it's probably the same trick they did with Prim. They've taken Peeta and replaced him with a jabberjay. The other voices call to me more urgently from the tree but I lay on the ground and cry for Peeta. I hear the charge of electricity in the air for the Lightning to hit the tree and wait for the strike. When it does happen, the sound is so close and loud and so blindingly bright that I jump two feet of the ground.

I wake up as I bolt up out of bed gasping. The covers are bunched up at the end of the bed and the real storm outside is raging on. I wipe the wet tears off my face and look to Peeta who is deep in his nightmare. He's balling up the bed sheet under us in his hands and struggling like he's being held down. He's whimpering and saying my name in pain and desperation. I realize that I was hearing his voice in my dream and the lightning from the storm outside must have brought me out of it.

My Peeta. I look at him and finally put the pieces together.

I have the quell dream regularly on the film strip of fears and horrors that play while I sleep, but it's never played out that way. The only person that could ever make me abandon everything that I know is right and make me want to set fire to the world was Prim... until now.

Or has it always been this way?

I look at him whispering my name and wonder how it is that I've come to deserve this. Deserve him. I feel warmth pool in my chest as I gently touch his face, brush his golden hair from his eyes, stroke my thumb across his jaw. His eyes flutter and his hand covers mine as he starts to calm.

He was taken from me, tortured and ruined. Somehow, against impossible odds, he turned it around and even came back to me. Even though I left him. Even though I lied to him. Even though I tried to ignore it. Peeta's eyes open and lock on mine. I feel my head roll to the side as I stare in awe at everything that is this boy with the bread to saved me a lifetime ago. He sighs and waits to see what I will do. Always waiting, protecting, and nurturing me.

I am in love with Peeta.

My hand cradles the line of his jaw and I watch as my thumb travels to his lips and I relish in their softness that presses across the pad of my thumb. Peeta exhales through his nose and looks up at me. I'm propped up beside him on my elbow and lift my leg to slide over the cool hard feel of his prosthetic leg.

"Katniss? Did you have a nightmare?" He asks. True to form, Peeta is worried about me first while he's grappling through his own demons and nightmares. It doesn't even cross my mind to answer him. I let my eyes wander to his bare chest and my hand follows my eyes as I pluck the edge of our thin blanket and pull it down to his thighs, leaving his torso exposed to me in just his undershorts. My hand travels back up his stomach to his chest, and I slowly map the delicious curves of his muscles.

Peetas eyebrows furrow in confusion and he audibly gulps. I don't want just calm Peeta anymore. I want passionate Peeta too. I shift my weight and slide my leg over him more and straddle him. I sit myself on his hips and fold my legs so that my shins rest on the bed on his sides. I lean down slowly, watching him try to puzzle out what is happening here in our reality while he pushes back the shiny world that still is trying to force its way through in his mind. When my lips finally meet his, it's soft but strong. I move slowly and patient, coercing Peeta deeper into our reality. At first Peeta barely responds, but just like his flashbacks, he slowly begins to press his lips up to my own. After several minutes, our lips sweetly begin to dance in the way that is so familiar to us. Now that my wall is broken, and I know that the truth of my feelings for Peeta is real, I know that this will not be enough for me.

Peeta breaks away and gazes at me about to ask about my nightmares again, but I don't let him because I lower my head to kiss his cheek, jaw, then neck. I think about the times when Peeta's breath scooted across my ear, sending warm thrills down my spine, so I lean up and give his ear lobe a tentative lick. Peeta gasps and tries to sit up, but I grip his shoulders and push him back down. His mouth hangs open, as he stares at me. I lower myself back to his ear and trace the shell of his ear with my tongue. Peeta nearly arches off of the bed and grips my arms firmly pulling me back up.

"Katniss. Tell me what's wrong." I smile at him and flatten my hand over his heart and look back at him. He waits for me to explain.

"Peeta, nothing's wrong. I just want to... be close... to you." I say honestly, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. He tips his head to the side and stays silent indicating that I need to explain more. When I don't and gaze at his eyes, then his lips, then his chest, he tries again.

"Is this because of the storm? Because of your nightmares? Or because of mine?" I shake my head no in answer immediately and Peeta purses his lips like when he's trying to figure out a difficult recipe.

"I need you Peeta." I say finally. His grip tightens on my arms, holding me in place as if I would flee at my admission. In answer, I shift my legs tight by his sides, squeeze them together, and hold him in place as well. His eyebrows lift up slightly in surprise. I feel the familiar wave of emotion crest in my mind that happens whenever I'm about to say something. It's the thing that many people said helped fuel the revolution and make me the mockingjay. I take a deep breath and open my mouth to allow what I know is about to change everything, for better or worse.

"I need all of you. Every minute of every day I just want to be closer to you, but I've always focused instead on all the reasons why I shouldn't. Even since our first games I've been lying to myself, refusing to acknowledge what everyone else saw. When I got on that train after our first reaping, I would have stopped at nothing to make my way back to Prim, to make sure she's safe. But at the end of the games I had the berries for us because I knew that either we would both live or I would die with you. I couldn't leave you no matter how hard I wanted to try, even though I am supposed to care for my family. But I chose you, I always chose you, even if I didn't know that myself."

Peetas mouth falls open and a soft gasp escapes as he exhales slowly, like someone has just told him the meaning of life. I don't wait, deciding that he will want to talk about it and I have had enough talking. I press my lips to his and lick his bottom lip lightly asking for admittance. Still stunned, he does part his lips absently and I turn my head so that my tongue can sweep softly across his. He tastes like he smells and I quickly feel like I can't get enough of him. I want Peeta to fill up all of my senses.

Slowly, he starts to mimic my tongue's movements and then starts to initiate it himself. Without warning, I feel him shift underneath me and he sits up, pulling me to sit up with him. I'm still sitting on him, straddling his hips and he sits under me with his chest flush against mine. He pulls apart from our kiss and locks his eyes with me searching for more affirmation. He circles an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him roughly while he involuntarily thrusts his hips up and I feel the beginnings of his excitement-his excitement that I caused and my heart leaps in pleasure. I smile at his questioning gaze and lovingly rub my nose against his and then place a light kiss to the tip. I look back at him and he looks at me in wonder. Then, I finally see his walls break down and a fire of intensity burn behind his gaze that had been suffocated for longer than I could ever truly know.

He attacks my mouth and holds me to him tightly with one arm around my waist while the other hand tangles in my hair. I barely register the storm going on outside, and it seems so far away from us. Not threatening anymore. All I can feel is Peeta and my nerves shutter with anticipation of being consumed by him. Our tongues dance against each other and I instinctively roll my hips forward against his hardness. He growls deep in his throat and thrusts against me again. Slowly, he breaks our kiss and places both of his hands on the sides of my face while he presses his forehead against mine, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath.

I put my hand on top of his on my face and pull it down to my neck. I slide his hand over my shoulder, my collar bone, and keep pulling it down. Peeta pulls back and looks at me eyes wide. I continue the journey of our hands and his hand caresses over my breast and I hear Peeta's breath hitch. I pull his hand to cup my entire breast and give it a squeeze and Peeta exhales forcefully. I let go of his hand and lean back as his other hand glides up and cups my other breast. Peeta closes his eyes and his mouth falls open. His strong hands on me makes my chest vibrate with electricity and I feel the peaks instantly harden. Peeta rubs one of his thumbs across to circle one of the hard tips and I whimper, rocking against his hardness again.

Peetas eyes open and burn into mine. His pupils are completely dilated to such a wide circle, I've only seen them like this when he's having an episode. Though, instead of hate and fear, this time pure desire fills them. As we thrust our hips against each other again, his hardness presses against a sensitive spot between my legs and I gasp and arch against him. Peeta growls and rips my shirt up and off of me in a split second, and immediately throws it across room. In an instant my top half is completely bare to him, the tips of my breasts already pebbled from Peeta's touch. Peetas eyes sweep agonizingly slow across my chest and before I have time to remember my embarrassment over my scars, he slides his hands across my stomach, up to my breasts and caresses them lightly with the tips of his fingers. Goosebumps prickle over my whole body and he takes his time kneading and weighing them. I begin to feel restless for relief, squirming against him when he lightly pinches one of the hard tips. The feeling sends a jolt of fire down to my core and I moan, utterly swept away from his touch.

Peeta looks up to me again and he has a twinkle in his eye that he gets whenever he thinks of an idea. Before I process what's happening, Peeta dives his head into the middle of chest. He starts to pepper light kisses across my skin and he inches towards my left nipple. I feel so overwhelmed by the feeling I grab on to Peeta's head, weaving my hands through his blond curly hair as he travels. When he reaches the tip I feel the wet warmth of his tongue slide around it in a circle and if feels so intense and foreign I can't help but let out a quiet moan. Peeta then latches on to the peak with his whole mouth and sucks while he brings his other hand up to pinch and rub the other.

I get lost in a tidal wave of sensation between his mouth and his skillful hands as he switches from one side to the other. I don't realize the the rhythmic gasps and light moans that come from my mouth as I continue to rub myself against Peeta's hardness. I slowly come back to myself as Peeta slows his exploration of my chest and I become very aware of how hard Peeta has become. The heat permeates through his undershorts and he feels like stone.

Without a second thought I lift myself off of Peetas hips and mouth and sit farther back on his thighs. Peeta frowns and I smile at him. I snake my hands out of his hair and slide them down his body to the the bulge in his shorts and caress a hand lightly against his excitement. I start out gentle, and then think of how roughly we were smashing our hips into each other and boldly press a little harder. Peetas head falls back and he lets out a whimpering sound of a powerful thing no longer in control. I take both of my hands and start to feel the shape of him through his shorts.

I know what men look like without clothes due to my mother's trade, but in feeling Peeta's private area and in this aroused state, I am in unexplored territory. I roll my hand low and feel the round and soft parts at the bottom. I grip the base of the hardness and run my hands up to the top and rub my thumbs across the ridge that separates the top from the rest in exploration. Peeta is making desperate low and gasping noises. I circle my thumbs over the tip and back down to the ridge curiously. It's then that I notice that Peeta is shaking. I look up at him and his eyes are locked on me and his whole body is trembling. For a moment I fear that I've brought on an episode, but one look in his eyes and I know that he's swept up in desire and our closeness and nothing else.

"Peeta. Are you ok?" I ask more breathily than I thought I would sound. Peeta gulps and nods his head eagerly. I smile but then wait, unsure.

"It's ok. I've imagined this for so long, Katniss. It's... really intense." He says gasping. He then sits up and seals his lips to mine. I relax against him and bring my arms around his neck. We part our lips at the same time and our tongues slide against each other. His shaking is lighter now and comes in bursts. I think that I should possibly be alarmed by his shaking because of his mental instabilities, but instead I feel empowered that I can make him feel such powerful sensations that clearly disarm him and also that he clearly wants me that much.

Motivated by his reaction, once more I let my hands drop to his shorts, but this time I tuck my fingers inside the waist of his shorts against his warm skin. Peetas eyes fly open. His mouth slacks open and his breath comes out in pants. I dip one hand in and I immediately meet his hardness. It's hot and hard and silky to the touch. The tip is soft and I pass my thumb over the top where there is a small opening with a drip of slick liquid begging me to continue. Peeta falls back, laying down with his head on the pillow. I allow my hand to move down and wrap it around the long shaft. It's big and though I try to reach my middle finger and thumb around, they don't touch. I feel a chill of nervousness run through my body at the idea of something this size inside of me, but I look at Peeta, who is now gripping the bedding under him, and know that this boy won't hurt me. I slide my hand down to the base and back up again to feel his length in my hand and caresses my thumb over the ridge and the top. Peeta makes a deep sound in his throat like a combination of a moan and a growl.

I pull his shorts away from him and down so that they bunch at his thighs and truly look at him for the first time. He's perfect and masculine and I'm not sure why I denied myself this opportunity during our first games. I gaze at him and watch how he pulses straight up against his belly. I flatten my hand against him and rub up and down once more. Peeta is looking at me intensely, watching my face. I think of how he seemed to enjoy the friction during my exploration of him and am overcome with the need to give him more, but the dryness of my hand prevents me to keep exploring him continuously like I want to. I think for a minute, and I bring my palm to my mouth and lick it, coating my hand. Then, I bring my hand back down, wrap it around him and glide my hand up and down. Peetas eyes roll back in his head and pushes his hips up into my hand. Taking this as a sign of success, I bring my hand back to my mouth and coat it a few more times between gyrations.

It's not enough. I need something smoother. I think for another minute, and without hesitation I dip my hand into my underwear and scoop up some of my own slippery wetness. Peeta groans and sighs and a wave of trembles hits him again. I bring my hand back to him and begin to pump up and down faster, swirling my hand over the top, enjoying the softness of Peeta's shape. Peeta starts gasping for air and moves his mouth like he's try to say something. I squeeze him more and pump faster, curious to see what I can make him do. He grows impossibly harder.

"Katniss..." He chokes out. All at once he tenses and his muscles under me give a shudder. A hot white liquid shoots out of the tip and on to my breasts.

"Ah... Ah..." Peeta moans as the liquid spurts out of him and onto me as he keeps pushing up into my hand. He writhes in pleasure, contracting and relaxing. I feel a wave of wetness flow through me in my core, as I watch Peeta lose himself and I slowly finish rubbing him. Once my breasts and belly have a good coating of his release, all of his muscles relax and he sighs low and deep. I look down at myself covered with him and I can't understand how I ever thought I could deny myself this kind of connection with Peeta. To be able to bring him so much pleasure gave me fulfillment and it was very exciting to see him in this way. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. After a time he pushes up on his elbows. He locks eyes with me and there's a happy fullness in his face.

"Wow." He says breathlessly. "Katniss, you have no idea how many times I've thought about you doing that to me." He says.

"I hope I didn't disappoint." I say feeling my lips curl up in a smile.

"That's not possible." He says without hesitation. I gaze at his flushed face and feel so much love for him. His eyes drift down to my bare chest, covered in him and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk.

"Your turn." He announces and suddenly slides his arm under my left leg, pulls it up, and flips me so my back is against the bed and he's in between my legs hovering above me. I gasp at the sudden change and the strength of his dominance, remembering his wrestling days in school before our reaping. I tense nervously, because of my immediate vulnerability, but relax when I look up at Peeta's handsome face looking ethereal bathed in the little bit of light coming through my window. His face is right above mine and smiles at me. His lips crash into mine and his tongue soothes my nerves.

When he eventually breaks free, he begins to place soft and slow kisses to my ear which trail to my jaw, neck, shoulder, chest. He flicks his tongue over my nipple and then sucks it into his mouth. I involuntarily gasp and arch. Too soon he lets go and continues the trail of kisses down to my ribs, then my stomach. He kisses my hip bone and slides his tongue from there across my lower belly to the other hipbone. His wet tongue feels so sensual being so close to my throbbing and soaking center. My heart thumps so hard in my chest I'm sure he can hear it, and I feel like I can't catch my breath. Although very aware of how exposed I am, I can't help my reactions to Peeta's touch and how it only fuels my desire to be touched by him more.

He sits up on his knees and runs his hands down my thighs, staring at my lower body. He stops at my knees and looks up to meet his eyes with mine. The boy who has saved my life many times. I take a deep breath and exhale, wishing my heart to stop thundering in my chest, when he sides his hands under my knees and pulls my legs farther apart and slightly up towards my belly. This position totally exposes the area between my thighs to him. I know that he can tell how wet I am through my underwear because the cloth feels cold against my flesh from the side that's even more exposed to the air now. The underwear I have on is old and thin, and the material becomes dark and clings to anything when wet. He probably can also make out the delicate creases of my body.

Peeta hungrily drinks in the sight of me and I try not to hyperventilate. I can't help but also be taken by the sight of him as well, on his knees between my legs, chest and arms flexed holding my legs apart to expose my most private area to him. He slides down on the bed becoming closer to my core and kisses the inside of my thigh. I tense and prop myself up on my elbows. He moves closer to my center and looks up to me as he places another kiss farther up the inside of my thigh. He eyes sweep lower and look across my breasts which are still wet and glistening with him. He then let's go of my left leg and brings his hand down. He traces the leg-opening edge of my underwear down in between my legs. The feeling of his fingers is overwhelming and makes me feel like I'm slipping away from reality into a foreign world where only these sensations and Peeta exists. He brings his hand back up to the waist top of my underwear and slowly runs it down to the indention of the crease of my most private area. He passes his finger over a sensitive nub towards the beginning that makes me arch right off bed and sit up as he slides his finger the rest of the way down.

Peeta smiles and presses his hand on my belly to lay back down. I return to my elbows, not able to relinquish that much control and also not wanting to lose the view of him doing these things to me. He runs his finger back up and over the sensitive nub again, but stays there. He begins to rub back and forth and side to side, experimenting and watching me. The feeling of his touch starts to merge into one feeling of pleasure that is building and all I know, think, or feel, is that I want more. This is a hunger that far surpasses any need of food or any kiss in a cave or on a beach. My hips lift off the bed to push harder into his finger and I hear myself moan. Peeta briefly sits up, grabs the sides of my underwear, and quickly slides them down my legs and on the the floor to join my shirt.

When he looks back at me, now completely nude and spread wide, he make a deep humming noise in his throat. He lowers himself back down to his previous position and I find that my nervousness has disappeared. All I feel is the desire for Peeta to keep touching me. He lightly traces his finger along my crease again, and on the second pass, dips his finger inside. He finds my sensitive nub again and I moan once more from the delicious feeling of direct contact. He spreads open my folds and begins to rub in circles. I tense and suck in a breath from the onslaught of pleasure. The pleasure keeps building as Peeta keeps rubbing, and I exhale as a moan. I am lost in a forest of sensation and pleasure when I feel his finger slide lower to find my opening. My eyes fly open and I'm about to beg for more when I see that his face his only inches from my flesh and he is opening his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks the underside of my sensitive nub. The texture of his tongue along with it's hot wetness makes me cry out.

His eyes find mine again and smolder when they find me flushed and breathless. Peeta starts to move his tongue against me like he touched me earlier and I sink to the bed completely, collapsing off of my elbows. The pleasure quickly builds like a wave you watch in the distance grow larger and travel towards you. Peeta sucks the nub into his mouth and flicks his tongue across the tip softly. His finger travels lower and finds my wet opening. One finger dips in a little and then slides back out. Then, he dips it in deeper and slides it back out again. Peeta continues until he's sure I'm ok and starts to move his finger in and out of me faster. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, the light friction of his finger inside of me coupled with the intense feeling of his tongue makes my pleasure crest even faster. Right before I'm swept up by it, I feel my whole body tense and shudder and I hold my breath. Finally, it breaks and I start to writhe in pleasure, twisting and thrusting.

"Peeta!" I yell and moan in exhale, swept up by my own climax. Peeta releases me from his mouth and lazily slides his tongue over me, slows his finger, and looks up to watch me fall apart. I feel the explosions of pleasure that Peeta built ripple through my body as I convulse. When I come back to reality, Peeta has stopped his movements and begins to climb up my body in between my legs. When he gets to my face, he kisses me sweetly and his hips collapse flush in between mine. I taste the tangy flavor of what must be myself in his mouth and he pulls away to meet my eyes.

"I've seen you do a lot of incredible things, things no one else but you is capable of, but that was by far the most amazing thing I've ever seen you do." He says with sincerity.

I feel my cheeks blush to Peeta's words, always saying the things that can affect me the most. He leans down and kisses me again slowly. As we part our lips for a deeper kiss, I feel that he's hard again and its pulsing against my own sex. The slippery wetness that's pooled against me allows him to coat himself and slide easily in the creases of my hot flesh. Our kiss gains heat and we begin to rub ourselves against each other, relishing in the natural and comfortable feeling. Our thrusting picks up and all at once, I pull my hips back and he pulls away which makes the tip of his hardness slide down lower and dip into my entrance.

We both freeze and Peeta pulls away to lock his eyes with mine. We stare at each other for a moment, understanding what this means. As I look into his eyes, I only feel love. Our history of ensuring the protection and survival of one another has accumulated to this moment, the ultimate symbol of trust and unity and there's nothing more I want than to feel him inside me. I push up towards him and he slides inside me farther, but meets a barrier that stops us. Peeta's throat bobs in a gulp.

"Katniss...," he whispers, as if trying to begin a more serious statement. I feel wetness flow through me as a response to him being at my opening.

"Yes, Peeta." I say as a half moan in affirmation and writhe against him in want. "Yes." I whisper again. Peeta trembles for a moment, in realization, then props himself up on his elbows. He trusts forward gently and my barrier holds, stopping him again. Peeta exhales a slow shaky breath that skits across the skin of my breasts. He adjusts himself slightly and I feel more pressure below.

"Katniss, I don't want to hurt you." He says solemnly.

"That's not possible." I tell him, repeating his comforting words. Peeta sucks in a breath and nods. He pushes in again and still my wall holds. Frustrated, I lift my legs up to bend them around him and align my center to him. I wrap my hands around his back and glide them down to his bottom. I widen my legs even more and pull him to me urging him. Peeta exhales forcefully and leans in for a kiss. As our lips meet Peeta thrusts hard and I feel a pop inside of me as he slides the rest of the way in.

I gasp in surprise and Peeta groans. It takes a moment for my body to expand to accommodate him, but it doesn't hurt or feel uncomfortable as I had often heard. Maybe my perception of pain is different from others now, or maybe I love and trust Peeta too much to feel pain from a beautiful moment like this one. The thought of him being inside me in this way is making my insides stir with pleasure. To be so close to him. I hum out a sound of approval and roll my hips up to him. Peeta is tense and shaking slightly with the exertion to control himself.

"You feel so good." He whispers after several big breaths. I look up at him and reach up to capture his lips as I roll my hips up again. Peeta hums low in his throat and gently pulls himself out a little and slowly glides back in. His movement makes warmth spread through my whole body, and when he does it again, he presses against something inside of me that feels incredibly good. I moan and Peeta takes this as a good sign and starts to pick up the pace. Continuously, he hits the same spot inside when he pushes in and I start to make short rhythmic moans to the motion of his body.

We continue for some unknown amount of time and the pleasure keeps building inside of me until I'm not totally in control of myself. I suspect Peeta is feeling the same from the way he is gasping, sighing, and squeezing his eyes shut like he's trying to hold something back.

"More," I plead and then softly moan into a thrust. Peeta groans deeply and hooks his arms under my knees to lift my lower half up to him and he sits up on his knees more. From this position, I'm aligned so that Peeta can enter me deeply and he can hit that spot inside me that feels so good even stronger. Peeta thrusts harder and faster and I hear myself moan with him as I watch his muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach tense and flex as he continuously slams into me, and the ecstasy inside me builds. He starts to tremble harder and his mouth falls open. He releases my legs and falls back on to his elbows stopping his movement.

"No, keep going!" I urge thrusting up against him.

"Katniss, I'm going to lose it again," he says.

"Yes, do it!" I say. I want to feel him lose himself in my body more than anything in that moment. I thrust up again against him wanting desperately to make him lose his composure. Unable to control himself any longer, he crashes into me hard over and over and his his whole body tenses so that every muscle is bulging out visibly. The force of his attack makes me yell out in ecstasy with every motion in and I arch my back.

"Ah! Ah! Katniss!" He shouts and then his eyes squeeze shut and his movements become soft and delicate. I can feel him pulsing inside of me. After a moment, he collapses on top of me utterly breathless and I feel more complete than I ever have. My lower regions are sensitive and throbbing, but I intensely don't want to break my connection with Peeta. Once we regain our breath and Peeta has softened, he props himself up on his elbows and looks at me. My limbs feel like jelly and I feel myself succumbing to my own sleepiness. His eyes are the same as they were before our experience, but now there's a renewed life in them that's I've never seen before. He takes a deep breath and hesitates like he wants to say something. He thinks for a moment and then leans down and kisses me lovingly and then leans back to look at me with renewed confidence.

"You love me, real or not real?"

"Real." I tell him.


End file.
